Down Sizing
by have-a-great-day
Summary: Being the soul mate of Draco Malfoy was always going to be a trial. Being the unbonded mate of both Draco and Blaise Zabini, however was something nobody would have been able to predict. Creature-fic. Soul-mate fic. Draco X OC X Blaise Vampire Veela bonding. Includes Elves, dark magic and jealous, possessive lovers. Inheritance-fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

**Evelyn POV.**

"Evie! Hurry up, dinner's getting' cold!"

My mother, Daniela, had ordered me home not 2 minutes ago over the phone, and I glanced around the park that I had been half-pipe skating in for the last hour and a half with my two best friends, Dylan and Jason. I nodded to them, and went to snatch my dark blue beanie from atop Dyl's head, but he grabbed my wrist and nudged me away.

I had known both of these jackasses since middle school, and ever since I met them on our first day, we've been best friends. Dylan and Jason were fraternal twins, so they aren't identical. Dylan was lanky, standing at a strong 6 foot 5, and was only 17 years old, as was I, and had big, bright, wide-spaced green eyes with tanned skin and light freckles along his cheekbones and nose bridge. Jason, on the other hand, was 5 foot 11, with short, dark brown hair, that he usually combed over, at the heavy teasing of both Dyl and I, with bright blue eyes and tanned skin.

"Listen, douche bag, give it back!"

I pushed my fist into his forehead, flicking it lightly, moving his head a little, and I took this as a moment of opportunity, snatching it off from his mop of curly, light brown hair, and jumping from the ledge of the u-shaped ramp, wheeling away on my 4 year old, black and white, Aztec-styled maple board.

He flipped me off, and I returned the gesture with a toothy grin, and a slight, sarcastic wave. After cutting across a street, travelling a few blocks, and finally chipping the curb a little, landing on my feet and holding my board in my right hand, walking into my two-storey, typical metropolitan house. I walked in, slipping off my red Chuck Taylors' and sashayed through the foyer and living room, straight into the dining room, sliding on the laminated floors, shouting, "I'm home!"

I startled my mother, Daniela Kendall, and I saw her jump, as she had been facing away from me, placing the dinner on the table. I laughed, and received a light knock on my forehead, and felt her snatch my beanie off, saying, "You know the rules."

I rolled my eyes, and kissed her cheek, as well as my father's when he walked in, after arriving from golf, with his work buddies.

I smirked up at his tall figure, and asked, "Halo papa, how was le golf?"

He chuckled a little, and kissed my forehead, saying, "Good, Evie, how are Jase and Dyl?"

I laughed, and said, "They're great. Skating was awesome, I'll show you some tricks later on, if you'd like?"

He wrapped his arms around my mid-section and nudged me towards the table, mussing my hair up in the process. I was never one for make-up, or straightening, so it didn't bother me much. I sat in my usual seat, located opposite my mother, and on my father's left side. As soon as my mother finished saying grace, we all dug into our feast fit for a royal.

My favourite combo; barbeque tagliatelle with white sauce and chicken strips. Lord have mercy, there was no way this meal was going to stand a chance in hell against me. Thankfully, my mom knew me well enough to make extras, and you better believe I went back for more. Once. Twice. Three times. And by the end of it, I was ready to burst.

When I glanced out the window, I noticed that it was now dark and decided against going back outside, and sluggishly trudged upstairs, into my room, dragging myself to lay face up, on my outrageously comfortable bed, and just relaxed. For about 5 minutes.

Over the years, I've realised that I never could stay very still for long, and I usually ended up pacing, like a crackpot, up and down the length of my room, doing anything to occupy myself. That habit is what got me into my hobbies. Instead of wasting my days, doing nothing, and procrastinating like a champion, I would use my boredom to better myself.

Skateboarding, reading, writing, playing instruments, learning different languages and facts about anything and everything I could find was something I prided myself on. People assumed because I was a skater, I was a stoner. Because I read, I was a know-it-all. Because I could play instruments, I was indie. Because I dressed a certain way, people made assumptions about me. All these different stereotypes almost made me laugh, if they weren't so fucking annoying. I couldn't go a single day at high school without one person commenting on my social, or lack thereof, life.

Dyl, Jase and I would always stick together, protecting one another from all the douchebags we call peers. We make our own little 'clique' of sorts, and we shared majority of our classes together. Although they looked slow, the twins were whiz-kids when it came to academia. It was laughable how much people underestimated them, but what can you do?

I felt my phone vibrate on my mahogany desk, and after checking the called I.D to see that it read 'DYL', I answered.

"Hey, Evelyn, how are you doing?"

Instantly I was suspicious. He never called me Evelyn. It was always either 'douche', 'fucktard' or 'midget'. It wasn't my fault I barely scraped 5 foot. I couldn't even blame my mother either, because I was adopted Hey, I liked being tiny. You know what they say, good things come in small packages!

"What do you want, Dyl?"

He chuckled, idiotically, down the phone, and replied, "Nothing really."

I groaned, and responded, "Okay, now I know something's wrong. What the hell's going on?"

He cleared his throat, and replied, "Well.. You know, Jase and I wanted to do something special for your birthday, so you're coming over tomorrow night. No questions asked."

I laughed, and replied, "Yeah, of course. You guys are my lifelines. I'll spend some time with my 'rents, and then I'll come find you guys."

He chuckled, and made a small sound of agreement in the back of his throat, and I said, "Okay, goodnight, Dyl. Tell Jase I said hi, okay?"

He said, "Yeah, will do, shortie. We'll see you tomorrow."

I had just finished circling my room for the 36th time when I heard the faint growling of the eldest member of the Kendall clan. Juju, my Staffordshire bull terrier. In dog years, she's older than my father. Initially, she had been left stranded with her dying mother, and already dead siblings, having found shelter underneath the beach pier, and I located them after going out for a skate under and around the dock, searching for shells to add to my then-current obsession; beach residue.

Her mother, a beautiful specimen that seemed to be wasting away in front of my eyes and I just couldn't see it happen to the more or less infant pup settled between her hind legs. She had been so small, so fragile, she wouldn't have survived the night, let alone feeding an infant pup, so upon a silent promise and agreement, I cuddled Juju to my chest, and waited until her mother had passed away, under the light petting of my hand.

I buried her, and her stillborn offspring, giving them a ceremony fit for creatures as beautiful as they had been, and I took Juju home with me. After that night, 7 years ago, we became the best of friends. The 10 year old me, and the newborn her were inseparable. Nothing could get in between us.

She followed me to and from my lessons that were held here for me, as a child, and always kicked up a huge fuss whenever I would have to go to elementary and middle school, even now as I attend high school, she dotes on every single word I say, and I her. Ever since she first whined in my direction, she had a hold on my heart. My little Juju; my best friend.

6 months ago, we had an addition to our growing pack, of sorts, and I called him Rokai. At first, Juju hated him - she thought of him as a threat, probably in a competition for my love or something, but she completely shunned his entire being. Whenever the chocolate-coloured pug puppy toddled into a room wherever I was in, Juju would stake a claim and growl menacingly at him, until he cried and shuffled away.

I had to force them to get comfortable with each other, so one day, I manoeuvred both of my beauties in the same room, with me in the centre, and, after a few hours of coaxing, it ended with Rokai in my lap, with Juju seated behind me, all of us holding each other in a tight embrace, completely comfortable with each other. I was glad for that, as Rokai and Juju were both two parts of my whole. I loved them both eternally, and I couldn't imagine life without either one of them.

Currently, Rokai was cuddled in his basket in the corner of my bedroom, with Juju in the centre of my bed, curled in on himself.

"Evie, come down here, sweetheart!"

My mom hollered for me from downstairs, and by her tone of voice, I knew something serious was going on. I uncurled my legs from beneath my form, and quickly, ran down the staircase, feeling the mushroom brown shag carpet scrunch beneath my feet, comfortingly.

"Yes, mamma, what's crackin'?"

I had begun speaking before I had even stepped into the living room, and I couldn't help but let the breath catch in my throat as I found my parents weren't exactly alone in the living room. As a matter of fact, there were more than one person in the living are that I couldn't quite recognise, sitting, rather comfortably, if I do say so myself, and with amused gleams shining in their eyes.

I rubbed the base of my palm against the middle of my forehead and whispered, "Dang.. This is a little awkward."

_**New story, sweethearts.**_

_**Read, review, and I hope you liked it!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

"So what you're trying to tell me is that, I'm some kind of, what was it? A witch?"

All I received in return were the complacent nods of the remaining members of the apparent "Zabini" and "Malfoy" clan, minus their son's, Blaise and Draco, who couldn't be here at the moment, for some unexplained reason. Valencia Zabini was a tall, stunning, curvaceous brunette, with an softly-curved nose, and a fair smile gracing her lips. Her inky hair was pulled to the side, showing off the flawless skin of her neck, and if I looked closely, I could see the outline of a deep set semi-circle shaped scar of sorts.

Narcissa Malfoy was a regal beauty; her blonde hair, falling gracefully between her shoulder blades, half tied up and curled at the ends, and her deep blue-grey eyes igniting playfully as she took in my fairly generous-in-size living room. Lucius Malfoy started as he meant to go on; business-like and very professional, yet his ethereal beauty shining behind his aristocratic features and a small smirk framing his lips.

"And, I.. What was it? I'm not human? Like, at all?"

They nodded once more, and I added, confusedly, "And, your sons are.. My mates?"

A final nod was my answer, and I sighed heavily, and reclined in my living room sofa, tucked my feet under myself.

I chuckled, mirthlessly, and asked, incredulously, "And you're expecting me to buy this?"

I only received eye rolls, from my parents, and a deep, resigned sigh, from the two families, in return. But really? Did they expect me to believe them this?

Lucius Malfoy, the head of the Malfoy household apparently, was the first to speak, and he said, "Yes, we do. We are telling you the truth. Nothing but it, in fact."

His heavy British twang threw me for a moment, and I couldn't help but smile, internally, as it was something new, and fresh to hear. I had always loved the English accent; it tickled me pink every time I heard it. Narcissa, his beautiful blonde, continued after her husband, "Sweetheart, we wouldn't lie to you about this. Our son, Draco, he wants to meet you so badly, it's driving us crazy."

I raised an incredulous eyebrow at this, and I smiled, half-heartedly, only because I didn't know how to feel in this situation. How would you react? Really? I glanced at my father, or, well, my adopted father, and he nodded, affirmatively, confirming what I currently feared the most.

They weren't lying. My dad wouldn't lie to me - not about this. His face was far too serious for this to be a joke. He was a terrible liar.

I twiddled my thumbs a little, and I asked, quietly, yet politely, "So, sorry for how this sounds, but what exactly do you want me to do about that?"

Narcissa smiled, her eyes crinkling slightly at the edges, and Lucius rubbed a hand along her own, lovingly, as he stared down at his wife, as if she was the only woman in his world.

She glanced back at him, before addressing me, and said, somewhat begrudgingly, "It sounds a little unorthodox, but sweetie, you're going to have to come with us."

I felt the air literally _whoosh _from my lungs, and I felt my body concave in on itself. Leave New York? My home? Oh no, that's not happening. I shook my head, a clear sense of denial, and they all shared a tight look.

Valencia Zabini then chose that moment to speak up, and stated, rather charmingly, and a heavy, Italian accent bounded through the air as she spoke, "I know it's a tough situation, but it's hard on both ends. My son, Blaise, he's in a.. difficult situation, and he needs you. Please.."

I noted the shaking in her tone, and somehow, I felt the weight of guilt settle in my stomach, and I couldn't help but bristle uncomfortably under her pleading stare. Her eyes a profound, yet strong navy, and her skin tanned from years of relaxing under the sun in the hills of Italy. I loved the colour of her eyes, and a flash of cavernous indigo pulsed through my mind, and the shiver of something akin to pleasure ran down my spine, and established itself in my abdomen, blossoming brightly.

I paused for a moment, and tentatively asked, "Why do your sons need me?"

I glanced upward, and saw that they, once more, shared an lengthy stare, and I felt a cleft form between my eyebrows, confused at why my parents looked so guilty all of a sudden.

"Mom? What's going on?"

She flinched at my lost tone, and she couldn't meet my eyes. I tried

"Daddy?"

His toned jaw was tense and his eyes firmly fixed on the glass table in the centre of the methodically decorated living room. The other three occupants of the room probably could taste the tension in the air, but I paid them little mind. I couldn't believe my parents were staying so silent, especially when I needed them to help me out so badly right now.

"Fine," and I turned my attentions to Valencia, and continued, "What exactly do I need to do, for us all to be happy in this situation?"

She looked around once more, and after what seemed to be her confirming something with the other occupants of the room, she finished, resolutely, "You need to come with us."

I deflated, and without meeting the eyes of either of my parents, I bid a solemn adieu to the other inhabitants of the living room, and, instead of going back to my bedroom, I slipped on my Converse, and, after picking up my board, which lay at a precarious angle against the laminated floorboards and the cream coloured wall of the foyer, I stepped out of my front door, locking it behind me.

Taking those first few steps from my home, I could barely breathe. Even though I was in such an open area, I felt enclosed and uptight in my own skin and I scratched at my bare arms, wishing that I had brought out a coat of some kind with me, but knowing that if I had spent another moment around them, I would have broken down. I would always go for a quiet jog around the neighbourhood if I ever felt unhappy or discomforted, but that wouldn't do today. I needed to skate. I needed to feel the hardwood beneath my feet, and the wind sailing through my dull, dark brown hair. I blinked my blue eyes once, twice, and set off, without a second thought as to what lay ahead of me.

When I returned home from my skateboarding session, I would feel much more open to the idea of leaving. I just wouldn't know what to say to Dyl and Jase. They were my lifelines. They were my brothers. What was I going to do without them? I could barely make it through a normal day without seeing their smiling faces, or hearing their corny jokes. What would I do for however long they expected me to stay away? Why did it have to be so difficult? Why couldn't I have just stayed ignorant to whatever nonsense is happening to me?

With every angry passing thought, I pushed harder and harder against the gravel, propelling both myself and my streamlined skateboard further and further through the still, night air. I lived in a suburban area of New York, so there was little to no traffic around at this time.

The night sky was glittering brightly, dotted with twinkling stars, acting as a soft blanket, covering all of the Earth's inhabitants in a soft, dewy glow of darkness. The moon stood out and contrasted deliciously, with its sullen toned face, similar to my own pale skin, and I couldn't stop the sigh of calm that was ripped from my chest at the sight.

No matter how badly my day could have gotten; the moon, the sun, the sky - it was all the same. That consistency surrounded me, daily, and it reminded me that everything moved on. No matter how life changing, or depressing, or outrageous an occurrence may be, in comparison, it is nothing more than a spec on the face of the Universe. And for that I should be thankful.


	3. Chapter 3

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

"I don't know if this was the best way to go about this, Luke," Lucius began, "She didn't take it very well."

Lucas Kendall nodded in affirmation, he knew his daughter - even though she had been adopted into his family all those years ago when she had been nothing more than a pink, chubby, wailing infant, he still believed her to be his flesh and blood - wasn't going to have taken this _situation_ of theirs happily, but he had hoped that she would have at least heard them out. He knew that he could have done more than just glare at the table, but he couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him with her doe-like, blue eyes, filled with betrayal and confusion. He wanted to be strong for her, but she had wrapped herself so far into his heart, he couldn't stomach disappointing her.

She had started out as nothing more than a mission, of sorts- someone he was to watch over and protect with his life. What was he supposed to do when Lucius Malfoy, his oldest and closest comrade, turned up at his home in New York, holding a clump of blankets, of which he would find his only 'child' tucked away, safely inside. How could have turned him away when he implored him to take care of her, saying that it was for the good of the wizarding world - a world he was unable to be apart of due to his Squib-nature?

He had always wanted a large family, but alas, his wife, Nicole, had been unable to conceive, and according to their doctor, she would never be able to have children of her own. No, he would never turn away the chance at a family, not even at the risk of his own life, so he readily took her in, cared for her, provided for her as a father should. Of course she had been told that she had been adopted from a young age; to keep that from her would have been cruel.

"I don't know, Luc, I've never heard her sound so broken," and he cast a worried glance at the door, "What if she says no? Your boys wont survive."

All three parents flinched at that, and both women whined internally, a sound reverberating through their bodies and rousing their more animalistic side. Lucius wrapped a comforting hand around his wife's shoulders, and Narcissa wound her fingers over Valencia's taut, clenched fists. Valencia's mate, a man who also went by the name of Blaise Zabini, had died years before, leaving his wife and eight year old son alone. The vampire mother almost followed suit, had it not been for her youngling, she most certainly would have taken her own life.

"Lucas, please, where would she have gone? I must speak with her, try to make her understand the import-"

Narcissa cut Valencia's pleas off with a delicate squeeze to her wrists, and said, softly, "This is not the way we want to do this, Ci-Ci. Please, let her have her time alone, she most certainly needs it."

Begrudgingly, Valencia nodded, and ran a hand through her hair, twisting it, unceremoniously. This kind of behaviour was not to be shown to anyone outside of this room; they needed to be perfectly poised and professional at all times, even when they were around other family members, however, once they entered the safe walls of their home, or of someone they trusted, all of that majestic behaviour flew straight out of the window. Alas, that was the life of a pureblood.

Nicole chose that time to speak up, and she asked, calmly, "What kind of preparations will be have to make?"

If anyone took the time to notice, they could hear the shakiness and the uncertainty in her voice, her control barely being held back by the skin on her teeth, and she couldn't help but clench her fists in fear. Fear of what they would say. They couldn't help their condition, she knew that well enough, but she didn't want to let her baby girl go. Her child was the most important thing to her, bar her husband, and she wanted to keep her close, damn the consequences.

"As of midnight tonight, she will come into her inheritance, the same way that Draco and Blaise did, and it will be painful. Mind-numbingly excruciating. It will tear you apart hearing her scream and cry, but she needs to get through this," Lucius took a moment to look into the eyes of Lucas and Nicole, making sure that they understood what he was talking about, before continuing, "When she wakes, which may be about two or three in the afternoon, she will be hungry. Absolutely ravenous. So have plenty of foods prepared; pulses, vegetables, a lot of water, and ice. She will need something cold to keep her alert. Something outrageously sweet, like, maple syrup or honey. Her veela will need sugar; her glucose levels are going to be low from her change," he chuckled lightly, and finished, "It's going to be a lot of work, believe me, but it'll be worth it. We'll be here with you all the way through it, coaching you and keeping you informed. She'll come with us after her change, and from then on, she'll be with us."

Lucas and Nicole nodded understandingly, however they didn't entirely agree with what was happening to their tight knit family. They both knew and understood that one day their child would have to be taken back to where she had came from, but they didn't think that day would come so soon.

Nicole stuttered out, lightly, "What should we do until then?"

Lucius' eyes snapped up to her own, and her breath caught in her throat, wondering why she suddenly felt so claustrophobic.

"Make her comfortable, because these next few hours will be her last being 'normal'."

That was exactly what they _didn't _want to hear.

"Where exactly is she going, if you don't mind us asking?"

Valencia's worried tone caught the attention of everyone in the room, and Nicole replied, nonchalantly, "Probably Jason and Dylan's house."

Lucius' expression bled from being completely calm to outraged in mere seconds, and for the first time, Lucas was afraid of his friend.

His irises bled out into the capillaries inside of his eye, and gave him an even more of an animalistic and demonic look, and his tone raised tenfold, "She's, unprotected, at another male's home? Two men?! No! That will _not _do, Lucas! I thought I informed you that she was to be protected!"

Lucas' eyes widened at his friends animalistic features, and flinched under his glare, but bristled and hardened as he realised the implications of his friends' words.

"Dylan and Jason are perfectly fine. Believe me, I would never have left her unprotected. Trust me, Luc."

Upon hearing the sadness in his eldest friends voice, Lucius Malfoy calmed himself down, and relaxed, and Nicole could only watch in awe as his eyes returned to normal, and his claws and canines retracted gracefully.

Almost playfully, Lucius nudged his friends shoulder, and replied, "I do, Lucas. Of course I trust you."

Narcissa smiled, and thought, simply to herself,_ This is the Lucius that I fell in love with._

**Hope you liked this chapter, lovelies.**

**Read, review, and I hope you liked it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

Draco Malfoy was pissed.

No. That was an understatement. He was absolutely _livid. _His parents had ordered him to stay home, while they paraded around with _his _mate. Who did they think he was? An idiot? He wanted her, and he wanted her now. That didn't make him spoilt, it made him the dominant veela that he is and he'll be damned if they kept him from her for another moment.

As that thought passed through his mind, he threw his covers from his body, fully intent on apparating to his parents and tearing them a new asshole for what they are doing to him, and yet, as he was preparing to leave, Blaise sauntered in, dressed in an obsidian coloured shirt and matching slacks, which appeared to have been moulded to his body by God himself, and smirked down at Draco, in that haughty way that only he could. His indigo eyes trailed over Draco's dishevelled form, and he chuckled into the crease of his fist, content in the knowledge that it wasn't just him who was suffering in relative silence.

"Calm yourself, Drake, or you'll end up sending yourself insane with worry."

Internally, Draco smiled, as only Blaise would be able to call him ''Drake' and still have his head attached to his body. It was a nickname that had stuck ever since he was a podgy child, and even though he acted affronted every time it was brought up, he didn't hate it half as much as he pretended to.

Shaking off those nostalgic feelings, Draco snapped, "I am _not _worried. I'm pissed. There's a difference."

Blaise chuckled, and replied, "Sure. So you're not wondering about our little _tesoro _then?"

Draco blanched, and refused to meet Blaise's eye, and grumbled, rather stubbornly, and Blaise smirked to himself, as best he could in his current state. To another person, this might seem like a rather passive gesture, but it was far from that. Draco was simply acquiescing to what Blaise was saying, without really admitting that fact verbally. He hated being proven wrong - that damned Malfoy pride.

The Slytherin pair both sighed simultaneously, and Blaise began, suddenly, his voice full of wonder and awe, "I wonder what she's doing right now."

Draco scoffed, and replied, scathingly, "We don't even know what she looks like, Blaise. She could be a troll for all we know."

Blaise rolled his eyes, and sat on Draco's California King bed, with his back against the headboards, and his ankles crossed, languidly, knowing full well that Draco was simply saying this to try and make his dependence on her seem more trivial than it really was. Both Slytherin's knew that whatever she looked like, she would be the most beautiful woman to ever grace the Earth, and they were thankful that God blessed them with the privilege of being her mates, partners and lovers all at once.

Blaise quickly retorted, in a exasperated tone, "Says the one who was writhing in his sleep over a girl who he cant picture."

Draco's eyes widened fractionally, and he punched Blaise sharply in his shoulder, "You cant talk, Blaise. Weren't you the one who was fit to burst the other night? Your own hand not quite up to the job anymore?"

The pair of best friends, turned occasional lovers, had reached an understanding years ago. They had been warned, by their then-worried parents, that they had been mated to the same little lady ever since they had been children, and after a brief scuffle that resulted in a short trip to just Mungo's, they had sworn to each other that they would both protect and love her, whomsoever she be, with all their hearts, and have kept that promise to this day.

Blaise's expression faded from playful to completely serious in mere moments, and he stated, "I'll let you know that my hand is perfectly fine. It's not exactly my fault, though, I am a vampire. Unlike you, veela-boy, I live off of my mate's aura. Her life-force. I havent met her yet - without her, eventually I'm going to waste away and die… I don't want to go, not yet, Drake. I-Is it wrong that I want her with me now?"

Draco looked anywhere but at his oldest friend, and said, "No.. I feel the same," although anyone could hear the edginess in his tone and if they looked closely, they would notice that he clenched his fists under his sheets, so tightly, in fact, that his blunt nails dug crescent shapes into his pale palm.

Blaise sighed, heavily, and Draco noticed for the first time how tired he truly looked. His eyes used to burn a seductive indigo, and drew crowds upon crowds of people in, and now, they were filmy and almost dead behind his lids. His skin, usually soft and flawless, was sullen, even though he was just as tanned as he had been before his inheritance, a year ago. How Blaise survived so long is completely beyond Draco, but he respected his friend in a way that most could never understand.

After the second, and thankfully final, fall of Voldemort three months ago, things finally were coming to a close - families and friends were reunited, new relationships formed, enemies reconciled, and all of those no-good Death Eater scum were more or less all locked away in Azkaban. The only reason why the Malfoys weren't also in that predicament was because, by magical law, they were protected, as were the Zabinis, recognised as magical creatures of the dark, and therefore unable to face orthodox trial. Yes, they had tried to strip his families name of their glory, but that was not of consequence to them. They had each other, and contrary to popular belief, they were a very loving, close-knit family.

Both Draco and Blaise had been friends, longer than either of them could remember, and their fates were woven together by one silky, silver thread. Their mate. Their undoubtedly beautiful, stunning, perfect mate. Just thinking of her, the sound of her voice, the scent of her skin, the sparkle in her eye - it got Draco's blood boiling.

Draco understood the burning beneath Blaise's skin whenever he thought of his true mate. He understood the uncertainty, the stress, the agony, the fear of not being enough for her. The stinging behind his eyes when he thought of her never knowing him. Those nights he sat awake in his bed because he felt, through their weak bond, that she was unhappy. It was enough to send anyone completely bonkers.

That was Draco's biggest fear. He wanted to be powerful, strong and intelligent enough, to be accepted by his mate, whole-heartedly. The thought of someone else sneaking their way into her heart, because he wasn't sufficient enough to do so, made his stomach quiver with unbridled fury, and it took a few seconds for him to calm down enough to actually be able to look Blaise in his eyes. And when he did, he saw the same rage reflected in his orbs.

"I know, Drake, I know."

And those words were nothing but the truth.

**Tesoro is 'treasure' in Italian, and is going to be one of many nicknames that people are going to have for her. Aw, our young, Italian prince. Read, review, and I hope you liked it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

**Evie POV**

As quickly as I was able, I skated haphazardly through the park, narrowly avoiding a few stray, deep cracks in the pavement, and, after kicking off the nearest curb, and tumbling slightly as my feet touched the ground, and clambered up to the home in front of me. A home belonging to Jason and Dylan Young; my two best friends in the entire universe. And if what those strangers in my house are saying is true, this might be the last time I ever get to see them again. And that thought alone brought tears to my eyes.

I knocked, gently at first, then a little more forcefully after I heard no reply. I guessed that they might have been asleep, and I felt the tell-take signs of guilt trickle through my system at having woken them up. It was only half 10, so I guess it wasn't all that late, but the fact still stands. I just wanted my best friends to tell me that it was going to be okay.

The door swung open in front of me, and a sluggish Jase opened the door, his dark brown hair askew and his blue eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Wha-chu doin' here, Evie?"

I felt a small smile break out on my face as I saw him, wearing nothing but a pair of dark coloured sweatpants and the Odd Future jumper I had bought him last Christmas. I knew my watery eyes were shining in the light from his foyer, and as he realised that I was close to tears, he seemed to suddenly become intensely grim and fixated and hugged me tightly to his torso.

"Come inside and tell me what happened, Squirt?"

He drew me in his arms, and led me to the living room, and sat me in the singlet sofa, nearest to the fireplace, of which he switched on, whilst I was getting comfortable. He reclined easily on the table opposite me, and rested his hand on my knee, smoothly.

"Do you want anything to drink, Squirt?"

I shook my head 'no', and buried my face in my hands, trying to warm them up.

"You're freezing cold. Did you skate all the way here from yours, just wearing this shirt?"

I nodded, not quite trusting my voice at the moment, and it warmed my heart at how unhappy he sounded at minor recklessness. He rubbed a hand up and down my forearms, and I smiled, thankful that he was taking such good care of me. Dyl and Jase were always protecting me. It had always been that way, ever since we had been young.

He sighed, and asked, resignedly, "You want to tell me now?"

I shook my hair, my brown hair falling into my eyes, and I held my knees closer to my chest.

He nudged me once more, and relented, finally, "Come on, Squirt, tell me."

I glanced upwards into his azure eyes, and I said, curtly, "They're taking me away, Jase."

He froze, and anger flashed in his eyes, and asked, anxiously, "What do you mean, theyre taking you away?"

I rolled my shoulders a little, and I repeated, "They're taking me away. They said that I have to go away with them. They told me some crap about something being wrong with me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't want to go, Jase, I don't want to go."

I had become hysterical through my little speech, and he reached out and grasped my wrists in an attempt to keep me still.

"Hey, hey, Squirt, relax. Calm down. What are you talking about?"

I dug my face into his shoulder, and I let my tears run wild, completely unable to stop them from flowing. There were so many emotions running through me; anger, fear, rejection - I don't know why I was feeling so strongly about this. I could very easily say no, and I probably would be able to stay here, with my family and with my friends, but for some wild reason, I couldn't force the ward from my lips. I felt it deep inside my soul, I _needed _to go with them. Something was drawing me along. Pulling, prodding, scraping and scratching under my skin, and I wanted nothing more than to pull at my flesh and dig at it until it went away.

It was more than a little bothersome. It was almost painful to think that tomorrow, I was, not only going to be 17 years old, but I was being forced to leave the only place I've ever been able to call home.

"Jase, who was at the door?!"

Dylan's throaty voice sounded off somewhere upstairs, and I felt a feeble smile break out on my face as I heard his subdued footsteps as they came down the stairs. I saw his fluffy, pink slippers before I saw his golden curls and wide, green eyes, but when I did, and he saw that I was crying, he had the same reaction as Jase. The protective older brother, of course.

"Who's ass am I beating, Widget?"

His tone was authoritative, and I only had ever saw him like this once before. When we had been, like, 6 years old, and some asshole kid threw dirty sand in my eyes while we were supposed to be having fun in the playground in elementary school. Let's just say that they beat his ass, 7 ways to Sunday, and enjoyed every moment of it.

I bit out laugh, despite myself, and I replied, "You're not beating anybody's ass, Dyl," and I sneaked a glance up at Jase and saw he was staring intently at the floor, with an intense gleam shining in his eye and his jaw was tense and angry-looking, and I continued, "Apparently, I'm leaving tomorrow."

Dylan's face completely drained of all emotion, and when he spoke, his voice sounded tired and weary, and it was directed at Jason.

"So it's that time already, huh?"

_**I wonder what those two twins are up to, hmm?**_

_**Oh, wait, I already know, don't I? Ha! Sorry, guys, read, review, and I hope you liked it!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

_Excuse me?_

Dylan reclined on the arm of the chair I was sitting in, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and pulled me to his side, and glanced down at me, with a sad smile on his face.

"Before you get upset, let us explain, okay, Widget?"

Hesitantly I nodded, completely at a loss as to what was going on. I turned my attentions to Jason, who had stood up, and left to room.

My voice was reserved and quiet as I asked, "Where's he going?"

"Don't worry about that right now. We need to talk."

For some reason, the foreboding tone he used set me completely on edge, and my entire body froze in anticipation of what was going to come from his lips next.

"Jase and I.. We're not exactly normal."

I cocked my head to the side, a wondering expression on my face, and he continued, "We're not human. Like you, we're elves."

There was a brief, pregnant pause, and I broke it with my manic laughter. It took a while before I could breathe properly, and when I calmed down, I choked out, "That's a good one, Dyl. Seriously, wow."

His face was grave and serious, more so than I had ever seen him, and I had to admit, this was probably the only time that he was ever serious with me. There was a darkness that had crept into his eyes while I had been laughing, and his lips had thinned out into a straight line.

"I'm not joking, Evelyn."

Shit.

Double shit.

He used my full name. He _never _uses my full name. nobody used 'Evelyn' against me. It's just something that's never happened. Well, unless I had done something wrong.

"So I'm Evelyn now? Do you really expect me to believe you, Dylan?"

I felt the atmosphere spark with life as I spoke, and a thin spiel of electricity fed through the air around us.

"Come on, Evie.. Please, just.. Okay, fine. Watch. Then make your decision."

He released his hold on my body, and stood a few feet away from me. I saw Jason's shadow appear as it fell over Dylan's form, and he sharply spat out, "Not like this, Raphael!"

_Who, now?_

Dylan glanced at him, winked, cheekily, and clicked his fingers. It took all but a moment before I felt a whoosh of _something _brush through my very soul. I blinked numerous times, to clear the blur that fell into my eyes, and I clenched my eyes shut in apprehension. There was something going on; I couldn't breathe without a crushing weight against my chest.

Jason's voice rang out, strongly in the silence of the room, and he ordered, "Open your eyes. This is what we normally look like, Squirt."

Cautiously, I cracked open one eye, and what met my gaze was something that not even I could have imagined. Both boys, no _men, _that stood before me had changed exponentially. Dylan's tresses used to be bouncy and full to the brim of golden tendrils, and now it was shaggy, wispy and dark brown, paired with a stubble-clad chin and piercing green eyes. He was the same height as usual, grazing 6 foot 5, and broader than a brick wall.

Jason, who had always been the shorter one, was now the same height as Dylan, and his hair had grown out a little longer, and his skin far more tanned and healthy-looking. His jaw line was more defined and his shirt was tighter across his torso, as he was just as broad as Dylan, and stronger than before hand.

My mind caught up with my body, and I sent myself hurtling backwards off of the sofa, landing crudely on my ass, and the resounding laughter of those two asshole twins boomed through the comfortable living room. After the got themselves together, they scampered over to me and tried to help me to my feet, however I shook them off, making my own way up.

I looked at them both in the eyes, those painfully familiar eyes, and I couldn't help but wince as the cool, crushing weight pressed down on my heart. They had lied to me. Out of everyone in the entire world, they had lied. And that hurt the most. More than any kind of betrayal they could have completed, they lied.

My voice was shaking and unsteady as I enquired, "What exactly are you?"

They shared a meaningful yet fleeting look, and Dylan began by stating, "We're elves. I already told you that, Widget."

I shook my head, a little bit agitated, and replied, heatedly, "That's not what I meant and you know it!"

Dylan flinched minutely, and Jason refused to meet my eyes. I had been too focused on what was happening to them that I disregarded the parchment held tightly in his palm.

I pointed at it, and asked, "What's that?"

He glanced down, and he replied, "This is a contract, between our parents," and at my confused expression, "No, not the Kendall's, but your real parents."

Time stopped. The blood in my veins froze and, in contrast to this, my pulse seemed to skyrocket.

That was the only way I could describe the feeling that washed over me at those words. They knew my real parents? Don't get me wrong, I loved my mom and dad, more than life itself, but what kind of person would I be if I weren't even a little bit interested in the people who actually brought me into this world? Especially considering I hadn't even ever seen a photograph of them. Did my mother have my hair? Did I take my fathers eye colour? Who did I look more like? Who did I act more like? All of these questions that I had locked away deep in the recesses of my mind were bubbling up inside of me. I tried to lock these feelings away, deep in my heart, because I knew asking about it upset my mother, more so than my father.

I stared at him, dead in his frosty azure orbs, and spoke the words that, even I knew, would change my life forever.

"Let me see it, Jason."

**I know some people are confused as to why I've let her talk so openly about her situation with Jason and Dylan, however, empathize for a moment.**

**Who would you go to, in this situation? Or any situation like this?**

**I hope you'll understand more now.**

**Thank you, have a good day, guys!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

_This contract is to be formed between the noble houses of Sol, Totum and Doxiadis, in relation to the newborn charge, Amarie Evelyn Totum, daughter of Marco and Adrianna Totum (nee Sol). Upon the death of both parents, the noble family of Doxiadis will take responsibility of the child upon pane of death._

_Witnesses to this agreement are as follows;_

_Severus Snape, son of witch Eileen Prince and muggle Tobias Snape. Relationship to the deceased: Close family friend._

_Lily Potter (nee Evans), daughter to the muggle parents Gregory and Jane Evans. _

_Relationship to the deceased: Close family friend._

_As decreed by the Ministry of Magic: division of Dark and Mythical Creatures, under the Protection against Prejudice of Ancestry Act of 1579, Adrianna, a legal Veela, and Marco, a legal Vampire, both mated through soul, mind, body and magic, are able to dictate whom, upon their deaths, are able to take care of their offspring. Their entrusted guardians are the noble family of the Doxiadis', specifically, Raphael and Michelangelo Doxiadis, sons of the late Regina and Alexandros Doxiadis._

_Let it be known that all parties involved are protected under the Defence of Dark Creatures Act 1487._

_Upon the date of Amarie's seventeenth year, 4__th__ August 2013, she shall come into her genetic inheritance, and bring forth her Vampiric Veela nature to the surface, she shall seek out her predetermined mates, and the contract between these two families shall become obsolete, and there will be no more obligation for those involved._

_All parties concerned are asked to sign below, with both blood, magic and pen, and swear upon an oath dictated by the parents of the charge involved._

_It is asked that whomsoever in involved in this contract speak not of it to any other person, who also is not directly involved themselves._

_Benedicat tibi deus faciat._

_Sic fiat semper._

…

After reading those damned words, I could barely speak. I could only plead with my eyes that they would give me a few moments to myself, and thankfully, after changing back into the faces that I had come to know better than my own and love like brothers, they left me to my own devices.

All of a sudden, I felt far older than my years, and more weary than I had ever been before. I felt my body sink back into the sofa I had been sitting in, and my vision tunnelled completely. I didn't know what to do, what to think. I just needed to be alone, but a quick glance at the time showed me that it was far too late to be travelling alone, especially through the park that separated our homes.

Instead of brushing this situation off, however, I decided that before the night was out, I was getting to the bottom of this, and I would get the truth out of everyone involved. I had no intention of letting this go without a fight.

With a new resolve in my eye, and a determined expression permanently set upon my face, I squared my shoulders, and demanded, "Dylan. Jason. I know you're out there. We're going back to my house, and sorting this bullshit out. Grab your shit. Let's go."

Shuffling past the two twins, I grasped at my board, and angrily threw open the door, careful to not slam it against the wall, and shot off, like a bullet in the dark, wishing that I could have grown wings in that very moment, and flown away from all of my problems. Never mind. I had just under half an hour before it was officially my birthday, and I was not going to waste my final days being miserable.

"_Slow down, Widget!"_

Dylan's voice was quiet, as it was carried along in the wind, and I glanced backwards to see that not only way I going far too quickly to be considered even minutely safe, but they were almost 50 feet behind me, pumping themselves faster and faster to catch up with me.

Taking a chance, I decided to spice this up a little, and took a risky, incredibly sharp left, and felt myself lose balance, if only for a second, before catching it back again. I travelled along the winding path, past the small, children's play area, and cutting past the miniature half-pipe we had spent most of our summer relaxing on. I chipped the curb slightly, and travelled along it for mere moments, before slamming back onto the gravel, and at a distance away, I could hear Dyl and Jase copy my movements. They had clocked onto my little game, and were playing along.

This drew a crux to the forefront of my mind, as I realised that I had already forgiven them. Which went against everything I held dear in my spirit. They lied to me. They deceived me. My parents did the same. I should be angrier than I was, but I couldn't find it in myself to dredge any animosity in my heart.

"_We're right on your tail, Squirt!"_

I smirked to myself, and breathed out a light puff of air into the night sky. So they thought they could beat me? Knowing full well that I was the better skater? Okay. It's on.

I pumped my calves faster and faster, gaining more momentum and velocity, slashing through the streets at an almost unholy speed. From where I was, I could see my front door, and I knew that within seconds, I would be there, way before either of the twins would have.

Instead of taking the safer option of dismounting my skateboard and walking to my door, I used my weight and my speed to kick myself upwards and completed an Ollie before carrying onto my home. I had to step off of my board to climb the stairs leading to my front door, and I felt the muscles in my legs screaming in protest. I knew that tomorrow I would regret executing such an exhausting journey.

There was a light sheen of sweat dampening my forehead, and the upper half of my torso, and my breathing was coming out in short, quick gasps, but I had just had more fun in the last few minutes than I had had in a long time, and it was worth it. I heard the boys follow in my footsteps, and I used my house keys to push open the door, once they had joined me on the porch.

"That was a dumb thing to do, Evie."

Jason's voice was scratching from all of the shouting he probably had done, but I could see the excitement shining in his eyes, and I knew he had had fun also.

"I know, but tell me it wasn't amazing?"

I questioned, and received no reply, and knew I had one. I stepped inside of the house, and kicked off my shoes, as did the twins, and made my way into the living room, only to find it empty of people.

"Where is everyone?"

I shook my head, a silent gesture of my uncertainty. Where could everyone have gotten to? I had mere moments before I heard the chiming of the grandfather clock located in the corner, against the far wall of my living room, and I glared at the twins, and spat out, "The clock was slow!"

They stared at me confusedly, and I groaned in annoyance.

"The clock at yours said I had half an hour. It was slow!"

Recognition flared in their eyes, and Dylan hastily amended, "What do we do? Your parents aren't here! We need to get you to your room before it sta-"

Crippling pain ran through me, and I collapsed to the floor from the intensity of it.

"FUCK!"

It ran from the nape of my neck, gripped the cuffs of my wrists and tore down the length of my spinal cord, pulsating in the centre of my body. It was like someone was branding my skin with thousands of needles. It shook me to my core and tore at the seams of my form. I couldn't breathe. My soul felt as though it was trying to escape from my very body, and I was trying so hard to stop the room from spinning out of control.

I heard the distinct sound of sharp pops, and I saw the worried faces of my parents and their guests as they came into my blurry, unfocussed vision.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart. Just hold on for us. We love you."

That was the last thing I had heard before my entire world faded into darkness, and I didn't even have enough time to nod in return.

_**The last line of the contract means **_

"_**May the Great God bless you all.**_

_**So mote it be." in Latin.**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

The only thing the seven occupants of Evelyn Kendall's bedroom could do as the owner writhed, screamed and cried on the four poser bed in pure agony, was watch in reserved anguish. They wanted to draw her from her pain, they wanted to coddle her, and hug her to their bodies and keep her safe, but they couldn't. She needed to get through this on her own.

Lucius and Narcissa had already apparated back to their home in Wiltshire, England, to let Draco and Blaise know that their mate was in transition. Let's just say they didn't take it very well. Okay, that's an understatement. In the end of the somewhat one-sided conversation, Lucius had to cast a very heavy _Immobilus _on his only child and son-in-law, and lock them in their generously sized bedroom, under incredibly strong charms, just so he would have been able to leave the room without them attacking him and searing his skin off. He had to order the house elves to cast an Anti-Apparition and Anti-Floo charm on his home as soon as he left, because he knew once they came to their senses, they would do all they could to follow him, and that wouldn't aid anyone in this situation.

They had lain her out on her bed as soon as she had begun to seize up, and already, 6 hours into her transition, her entire form had morphed exponentially. Her once dark brown hair, than barely brushed her shoulder blades, now ran in thick, wispy tendrils down her back and was coloured a mahogany brown, with tints of honey, auburn and burgundy. She had cut a short, snipped fringe back when she had turned 15 and had kept it ever since, but now, her tresses parted in the centre, and fell in luscious, sensual waves across her shoulders and down the length of her spine.

Her skin used to border on sullenly pale and burnt raw quickly under heavy rays of the sun, but now it was flawlessly tanned, almost glowing in the dimly lit bedroom, and contrasted with her white sheets, spectacularly. Her eyelashes had elongated, shadowing lightly on her now hollowed out cheekbones, giving her features more shape and allowing her to seem more aristocratic and noble in her expressions. Her lips were now a pale pink colour, supple and plump in nature, and her eyebrows thinned out, and curved in at the ends slightly. Her nose, which had been moderately upturned at the tip beforehand, softened out, and gave her face a far more cuter, more elfin look.

What had changed the most, however, was her body. She had always been a short gal, just about scraping the 5 foot 4 mark, however, she had seemed to shrink slightly, and at first glance, you would guess her to just barely reach about 5 foot - a fact the twins knew she would be overtly annoyed at. Her limbs had thinned out, and her stomach and thighs became more taut beneath her clothing, giving her an even more appealing figure. Her collar bones jutted out from beneath her skin, and the bone in her jaw became defined. Her breasts filled out, soaring from the average B-cup that she had been more than proud of to a soft, form fitting D-cup.

Looking at her now, you could tell that she was part vampire. Her canines protruded from her lips slightly, showing off the deadly point at the ends, and the veins beneath her eyelids were tainted black, conveying the deep unsatisfied hunger within her soul. Her eyes were flittering beneath her lids, and on the odd occasion, she would release a slight whimper, and Lucius would return a powerful croon back, out of instinct, calming her instantly, as she heard a dominant's answering call. Even if the veela wasn't her own.

Narcissa refused to leave her, hopefully, soon-to-be daughter-in-law's side, and Valencia shared the sentiment. Both woman grasped at a clammy palm, and tried to placate her as best they could. The twins, bless them, thought it best to cast a calming spell upon the young vampire-veela, however, as soon as the spell touched her skin, she had screamed bloody murder, and her skin began to split and bleed. Mortified and horrified at what they had done, Dylan and Jason both thought it best to spend the rest of her transition time downstairs, aiding Nicole with her feast for the young protege's birthday.

There was only another a few hours left of her transformation left, and her screams had long died down into muted whimpers and cries, so Lucas thought it best to begin setting up the festivities for her birthday, even though he believed that she would be in no mood to celebrate it. He tightened up the banner that read 'Happy 17th Birthday, Evie' along the top of the longest wall, and set up a mass of maroon and wine coloured balloons around the room, allowing some to float and others to flitter, carelessly, around on the carpeted floor.

He brought her presents out from the garage and settled them down on the floor beneath the banner. As soon as the twins spotted her presents they immediately returned to their homes to gather the gifts they had bought for her, and added them to the pile. Narcissa and Valencia cast a spell that dredged their gifts from their respective homes, although Narcissa was unable to, on account of the charms cast on her house. Lucius got an earful after that, of course.

Little did they know, that locked away, deep in the recesses of her own mind, the 17 year old hybrid wanted nothing more than a comforting hug from the only two people she had been able to call 'mom' and 'dad'.

The waves of pain washed through her soul over and over again, pulsating through her mind, and crippling her body, making it difficult for her to breathe, let alone actually make sense of it all. The electricity searing through the synapses in her brain, and the nerve endings in her body. The connection between her mouth and her brain had been severed and she was unable to scream or cry for help, or better yet, the sweet release of death.

In her abject opinion, anything would be better than this torture.

**Okay, I know I'm making Draco and Blaise seem a little blasé about the whole thing, but stick with it. You'll see what I'm trying to do later on. Have a great day, and I love you guys! x**


	9. Chapter 9

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

The clock, seated above the archway in the bedroom, ticked away, mirthlessly, and a tension settled upon the bedrooms inhabitants. Long had the most expensive and finest robes been discarded messily across whatever clean surface they could find, incidentally it was the plush purple beanie bag directly beside the bed, and now, a slightly disheveled Lucius Malfoy was slowly coaxing an unconscious Evelyn back into a state of awareness.

Her eyes rolled sloppily beneath her lids, and her mouth had bared open to convey mercilessly sharp canines as well as two rows of perfectly straight, pearly white teeth, gnashed together in a showcase of pain.

"Come on now, Amarie," he ran a hand through her damp hair, and sighed, "You've got to get up now, Amy."

_Amy? That was new. Well, everyone else seems to have a nickname for her, so why cant I? I am her father-in-law, after all._

Malfoy Senior couldn't understand why this young girl had such a catastrophic hold over his heart, and partially blamed it on the veela allure that she had been pulsating out into the atmosphere of the room, which had to eventually be cleared out, lest we allow two rabid elves actually attack our young hybrid out of sense of an inane _need_ for even the slightest scent of her_,_ however he knew better. It was the magical ties that bond witches and wizards to each other. His son had unwittingly bonded with such a powerful witch, and he could only admire lovingly from behind his cold, hard mask of indifference.

Inside, however, he was completely a different story. He hadn't felt more out of control and confused since the day Narcissa had went into premature labour with their beautiful baby boy, who had grown into a strong, virile young man. He wanted to shake her awake, and stare into her circular orbs, and just welcome her to the family. Call him selfish, but he wanted a little slice of her before his wife got to her, or worse, his sons. They wouldn't be letting her out of their sight for a long while.

It was a good this that they didn't go back to Hogwarts for a few weeks, but even then, they might be cutting it a little close. The mating itself would take a few days to fully complete, but the gestation period.. God, Lucius could feel the headache creeping in on his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to just sleep the next few months away. It would do him no good to stress over something that hadn't even occurred yet.

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he went back to his duty as her protector, and laid a firm hand over the spot in which her newly formed heart lay thrumming along steadily, and pressed down lightly, and whispered, "Here lies the heart, the essence, the soul, the magic, of a Veela. Inside holds the power of the Earth, the fluidity of all the oceans, the sheer might of the air, and the utter destruction of the great fire. Bless this being in their quest for joy and unity," and after feeling a pulse of magic shoot from his tingling fingertips into the awaiting body beneath him, he finished, in a voice so fierce, and a tone so commanding, the very glass inside the window panes shook from the force of it, "So mote it be."

As soon as the final words fell from his lips, Evelyn's form began to glow, subtly at first, then, as it gained momentum and force, it shone as bright as the first star, momentarily blinding the unsuspecting veela above her. Every orifice in her body; her mouth, nostrils, eye sockets and ears, began bleeding pure, white light. Her back arched off of the bed, and her hair waved, enchantingly, through the still air, as if she were being held under water. Lucius felt his jaw lock in place, and, although it was not proper in the slightest, a small gasp of shock tumble from his lips.

He would tell no-one of this, but Lucius was _afraid._

A distorted voice trickled from her lips, and seemed to speak directly to the dazed blonde above her.

"_Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. You are hereby dubbed the carer and protector of my child. Please, do not allow her to fall into the darkness that is seated deep within her soul. I implore you. Please, do you take on this task I ask of you?"_

Lucius could do nothing but nod in morbid fascination, and as the light faded from her blanked eyes, the voice became weary too.

"_Thank you, my dearest friend. Speak not of this to anyone. I know not whom I can trust.."_

It was then that time seemed to all but speed up, and the ringing in his ears returned, as did that infernal ticking of that bloody clock. Lucius released Evelyn's now limp body softly, and pointed his wand in the direction of the nuisance.

"Reducto!"

The clock promptly fell to the floor in a rain of colourless, shapeless material, and a sardonic smirk fell onto Lucius' lips. The silence that followed was blissful and he couldn't help but sigh in relief. That would teach those stupid muggle contraptions for making so much fucking noise.

A smooth, calculated voice sounded off behind his body, and he couldn't help but freeze as the sound washed over him, "That was impressive, Mr Malfoy, mind if you show me how to do that again?"

He felt the blood in his veins congeal, and he turned, only to find Evelyn smirking up at him, amusement shining in her now molten ultramarine orbs, all remnants of the ice-blue fading from her eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

"So you're finally awake, then?"

Smirking to myself, I glanced out of my bedroom window. I noticed that my eyesight had gotten much better over the course of my change. I shivered as the memory of the pain I had endured flew through my mind.

Rolling my shoulders, tensely, I drawled, lazily, "Have been for a while now, Mr Malfoy.. How long have I been out for?"

My eyes fell back onto his disgruntled form, and I couldn't help but chuckle, internally.

He stated, airily, "Only a few hours. It's early afternoon. Now, I know this is tedious, but I must ask you a few questions, okay?"

Eventually, I nodded, dutifully, and he continued, "Do you know the date?"

Of course I did, it was my birthday. Why would I forget that? Did he expect me to forget or something?

Without realising it, I grinned, brightly, and he seemed to freeze for a second, as I exclaimed, "It's the fourth of August. My birthday."

He nodded, interested, and paused for a moment, thinking about something that changed his features, yet I couldn't quite catch before he delved right back in, "Do you know who I am?"

At his questioning tone, I rolled my eyes, surreptitiously, and said, "Yes, otherwise I wouldn't have called you Malfoy, now would I?"

It came across more aggressively and sardonically that I would have liked it to be, but he didn't seem to mind. It was like he was used to it.

He tutted, lightly, and responded, equally as sarcastically, "Okay, smartass, I was just checking. This is the more difficult one, do you know what you are?"

I paused, briefly, and felt my skin crawl, instinctively. I averted my eyes, and stated, with righteous anger pumping through my veins, "Some kind of hybrid type thing. I'm not human."

Without realising it, Lucius rubbed comforting circles on my upper arm, and I couldn't help but dip into his arms, slightly. I hid my face in his shoulder, something radiating from his body was calming my jolting nerves, and I sighed, deeply.

"Do I look any less human to you?"

Pathetically, I shook my head, still in his shoulder, and he continued, "I'm exactly the same as you. Well.. I'm a Veela. A dominant. My wife, Narcissa, she's my mate. My son, Draco, he's your mate. Or at least, he could be, depending on what you decide to do, of course."

A cleft appeared between my eyebrows, and I opened my mouth, ready to ask about his son, when he interrupted me, and said, finally, "No more talking about this. Like you said, it's your birthday, let's go and get your presents."

At the mention of 'presents' all my previous woes disappeared, and I jumped up, intending on sprinting downstairs, however my head began spinning, and my world fell onto its axis. I could barely breathe for a moment, and Lucius caught me in his arms, once more.

"Whoa there, take your time, you've been more or less comatose for almost 12 hours," and he chuckled to himself.

"Get in the shower, get dressed and come downstairs. Nicole's making you breakfast," and he slunk out of my bedroom silently, after having picked up his discarded jacket and smiled in my direction.

I stretched slightly, hearing the clicking of the vertebrae in my back in response, and I sighed, happily. I glided over towards my halfway hidden, walk-in closet, and pulled out a fluffy, white linen towel and a clean pair of black underwear, plus my outfit for the day; a pair of denim, frayed shorts, and an over-sized maroon sweatshirt that Dylan bought me last year at some festival that we had attended together, and my favorite pair of beige colored Converse sneakers.

Out of the corner of my vision, I noticed that my hair seemed to brush across my back lower than it ever had before, which I found to be strange, and it was only when I walked past the ceiling-to-floor mirror, wide set mirror, and I noticed that my hair was, not only, far longer, but thicker, and was stained a dark mousse chocolate in colour. Instead of that atrocity of a fringe I used to have, my hair had grown out into natural middle parting, and framed my face, rather angelically if I do say so myself. I ran a hand through my hair, noting that my fingers were slightly thinner, and my nails were longer, yet rounded at the tips.

The eyes that were eerily staring back at me, weren't the usual dull blue that I was used to, and I found that they were an almost supernaturally ultramarine colour. My skin was had taken on a radiant-like hue, instead of the sullen pale that I disliked so much beforehand. My eyebrows were neat and curved at the ends, surrounding my eyes. My cheeks and nose bridge were speckled with freckles and made my face seem more elfin and adorable-looking. I had to admit, if these were the perks of being.. Whatever they say I am, it might not be so bad.

Carelessly, I pulled my hair over one of my shoulders, and once I got to grips with my new 'look', I padded into the en suite mini-washroom that my.. Dad - can I even say that now? - fitted almost 6 years ago. I hung the towel over the chrome railing, and switched the shower on. I waited until it rained hot enough for my tastes. All of a sudden, I felt like a very, very, _very_ hot shower. As soon as my skin was touched by the scalding droplets, I felt completely at ease, and all of my worries seemed to melt away, like the water swirling in the drains.

I dipped my head under the spray of the water, and ran my hands through it, catching a few knots in the process. I squirted some scented shampoo into my palm and lathered it into my scalp, until I felt as though it were bleeding. I scrubbed away the grime and sweat from last night, and noticed that the joints in my knees were sore and aching. Does that mean I grew? Or did I shrink? I glanced to the side, and found that the shower-head was, indeed, further away from me that usual.

For the love of God I've literally shrunk. What else do you want to take away from me? My soul?

I rolled my eyes, clearly annoyed, and I finished up in the shower, quickly. I wrapped the towel around my body, and padded back into my bedroom, wincing at the sudden chill of the marble floor against my bare feet. I threw on my underwear, and a pair of grey knee-high socks, then the outfit I had chosen earlier. I wrapped my hair up with the now damp towel, and, after my tresses was reasonably dry, I ran serum through my hair, and then, a brush followed suit.

As quickly as I was able, I made my way downstairs, and as soon as I stepped into the living room, I was assaulted with the sharp snapping sound of a party poppers exploding from all directions in my ears, and the scent of burnt wood and confectioneries permeated the air.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEETHEART!"

**I hope you liked it. Have a good day.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

I smiled, widely, and took in the sight of my newly renovated living room. There was the usual banner along the length of the cream wall, with 'Happy 17th Birthday, Evie' printed in big, bright, gaudy purple lettering. It contrasted, horridly, with the colouring of the wall, however, the sentiment was still there, and I thanked them for that.

There were balloons, of varying sizes, scattered all over the floor, some bouncing along the carpet, others floating surreptitiously in the air, and I grinned to myself. I felt a blush work its way onto my features, even though we've been through this every year, for as long as I can remember.

There were identical smiles planted onto each of the faces of my family members, as well as the somewhat glazed indistinguishable expressions flourishing on the faces of Dyl and Jase.

I couldn't believe they had gone through so much trouble for me, even though the change I had just went through basically changed my life, completely. I suppose that was something that I was nervous about; if they would still love and care about me even though I'm a little different. I mean, inside, I'm still the same girl.

I waved, skittishly, and said, awkwardly, "Hey guys."

They gave me a synchronised wave, and I smiled directly at them. Dylan was the first to speak, and he said, "You look… Good."

He struggled slightly with the final word, and I suppose he was looking for the most appropriate way to phrase his statement, without offending anyone else in the room. I knew, had it been just us three, he would have probably laughed at me and told me that my 'pins looked smoking'.

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged, minutely. I glanced at Jason and saw he was staring out of the window, more than slightly awkwardly, and a crease appeared beneath my brows at that.

Had I done something wrong?

"Happy birthday sweetie."

My mom's loving embrace drew my from my thoughts, and I could do nothing but return it with my own. I wrapped my nimble arms around her fairly defined, thin waist, and I felt her sniffle into my shoulder.

I tapped her on the back, slightly, and admonished, lightly, "Don't cry, momma. If you start, I'll start, you know that."

My dad wrapped his arms around both of our shoulders, and his strong, masculine scent fed through my nostrils. I didn't know why, but my sense of smell seemed to have heightened in the last few hours, and I could smell, literally, _everything._

The chocolate my mom used in the cake, hell, I could smell the flour, the eggs, the butter cream. Everything. The bleach that was used to clean the downstairs and upstairs bathroom last night, probably, was stinging the cilia hairs in my nose, and I couldn't help but faintly wince as it did so.

Anxiously, I ran a hand through my locks, and twirled the ends through my fingers. My mom appraised my look, silently, however, my dad, being the protective idiot that he was, merely stated, "Your look is a little.. Drastic, don't you think?," and rubbed the back of his head apprehensively, almost as if he expected me to explode or something.

I simply smiled, and nodded, completely agreeing with what he was saying. I was used to short hair, and scraggly limbs, not luscious curls and having a nimble, lithe body. I didn't know why but I felt a little uncomfortable, knowing that people were watching me.

I glanced at Lucius Malfoy, and he was smirking, knowingly, to himself, with his arms crossed over his shoulders. His attire had changed since I had last seen him, however, he was sporting something close to a poorly disguised black eye.

I asked, inquisitively, "What happened to you, Mr Malfoy?"

For a moment, he looked confused, then at the prompt of his wife, an understanding expression crept onto his face. He pointed at his injured eye, and said, straightforwardly, "My son got a little too eager when I told him you were awake."

My face looked nothing short of horrified, and he was quick to amend, "No, don't worry, he's not usually violent, trust me. He's just a little.. Excitable, right now."

Once more, I raised an eyebrow and he sighed, "I'm not really explaining this right, am I?"

I shook my head, and he asked, "Take a seat, please. All three of you. We need to talk some things out."

I sat on the floor, adjacent to the fireplace, yet in front of the television and floor-to-ceiling windows and door, that led to the substantial back garden. My parents took a seat, both of them holding hands, lovingly, and I had to smile, to myself, at least.

He began, professionally, "First of all, we need for you, Evelyn, to make a decision of whether or not you want to come and live with us until the start of the new year - of which you would attend Hogwarts, along with your friends, "Dylan" and "Jason", or, who we all know as Raphael and Michelangelo," and at this, I saw that, in my peripherals, Dyl and Jase averted their gazes.

I cut in, quickly, "What about their parents?"

He chuckled, and said, "They weren't actually their parents, Evelyn, they have already been obliviated."

Confused, I enquired, "What does that mean?"

He smirked, deviously, and said, "Sorry, I forget that you havent been a part of our world for very long. 'Obliviate' is a very useful spell that we use to take away someone's specific memories. It is very difficult to replace the memories once they're gone. Of course, it depends on the strength of the witch or wizard casting the spell as well as the person, or persons, who the spell is being cast upon, but it's normally permanent."

I nodded, understandingly, and I glanced at my parents, needing advice on the situation. My dad sighed, and rubbed at his temples, clearly at his wits end. Tearing up slightly, my mother said, as strongly as she was able, "It will do you a lot of good going there, Evie. We'll just miss you so much while you're gone."

I nodded, and turned back to the Malfoys, and said, "Can I give you my answer by the end of the day?"

They nodded in agreement, and I smiled, thankful. Valencia then chose this moment to sashay into the living room, colourful bags upon bags held in both of her palms with foreign labels printed on the front, and I sent her a questioning stare.

"You're my daughter-in-law. It's your birthday. It's time to celebrate!"

She clicked her fingers, and out of nowhere, neatly, festively decorated presents appeared beneath the banner, alongside the other gifts the others had accumulated while I had been asleep. I couldn't stop the telltale signs of excitement settle in my stomach at the thought of opening these presents.

What? It was my birthday after all.

Lucius carried on, seriously, "Okay, well I'm sure you've noticed some extreme changes that you've underwent in the last few hours," and at my nod, he continued, "Well, you know what you are, correct? According to the Ministry of Magic, you're one of the only vampire-veela's to have ever existed. Period. You're incredibly rare, in your own rite. There will be people who will hunt you, and people who will manipulate you for your abilities. You're going to be very powerful once you get a handle of your unrestrained magic. Believe me, the magical world is a seedy, bitter one, and I've lost many a friend to the darkness of it. I would like to protect you, not because you're my son's mate, and therefore an honorary Malfoy at heart, but because you're a young, impressionable, lost child, and you need someone to be there for you. Could you find it inside of you to let me, let us, be a few of those people?"

The air in my lungs seemed to have morphed into sandpaper, and I found it difficult to breathe steadily, let alone respond in anything other than wheezes and coughs. All I could do was give him a small, detached nod, and at the gentle nudging of my father's hand, I stood, as did Lucius, and he embraced me in his strong, surprisingly muscular arms. It felt eerily similar to when my father hugged me, except he smelt something akin to lemongrass and lavender, whereas my father smelt like spices and sharp scented soaps, that tickled my nose, yet not uncomfortably.

I returned his hug, and his wife chose this time to join in. She, much unlike her husband, smelt like regal, soft perfumes and ginger - a scent I had grown to love over the time I spent cooking alongside my mother. Jase and Dylan stared around the room, uncomfortably, and I laughed, silently, at their discomfort. This was their punishment for lying to me. This was about as sadistic as I could be, especially with them. They're my best friends. More than that. They are my brothers; my family.

Valencia clapped her hands together, happily, and said, jovially, "Oh, look at this. You all look so happy. I only wish our sons could see her now. They wouldn't know what to think," and with a somewhat randy wink in my direction, she flittered off into the kitchen, mumbling something I couldn't quite hear, even with my improved sensitivity.

"Okay, now that we have all that out of the way," and Narcissa released me from her hold, effectively breaking whatever trace we had been in and stated, contentedly, "Onto the presents, my dear."

The cheeky grin that flashed across my face was nothing short of cheek-splitting.


	12. Chapter 12

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

Within the hour, I had accumulated a variance of new items; both necessary in the wizarding world, and some, not so much.

Valencia bought me three new, hand-stitched floor length dresses, that fitted my form perfectly, paired with matching pear shaped diamond earrings and heels. One was an A-line chiffon pale yellow, one shoulder evening gown. The bust was lined with colourless jewels, and a split began from the mid-thigh on the left hand side, and continued all the way to the base. The other was a light peach, strapless, sheathed with darker shade of apricot wrapped neatly round my waist-area, and it fell to the floor in luscious layers, creating a more mystical and mysterious effect. And the final was a midnight navy, fading from a very deep blue at the bust, to an obsidian, in the train. There were no other specific embellishments, but that didn't matter at all to me.

I fell in love with them almost immediately.

She also brought me some fancy lingerie from Paris, of which as soon as I laid eyes on, I blushed a bright red, and immediately hid them upstairs, all the while admonishing her with my eyes. She simply laughed, and winked in my direction.

Dylan and Jason, bless them, had wracked their brains for months before getting my presents, because they, and I quote, 'didn't know what I would like'.

Either way, they hit the jackpot as they bought me a pair of brand new bearings for my skateboard, as my old ones were rusty, and it was a little dangerous using them as recklessly as I usually did, along with a new plum coloured zip-up hoodie and a charcoal beanie. They also thought correctly and bought me replacement strings and a tuner for my guitar upstairs. Thank God, they do listen!

My parents had brought me a new camera, to replace my old, well-used one upstairs, and I used this to my advantage, snapping a few photos of my new family, stunning the wizards and witches for a moment, and having to explain, in detail what this contraption was. Lucius had never looked so lost. They handed me more money and new clothes than I really needed, however they insisted, and I gave them both a hug and a kiss on the temple in thanks.

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had brought me two of the best gifts I received that day; not that I wasn't thankful for everything else I had gotten, mind you.

They promised that I was allowed a two-way trip to any of their mansions, which they say were scattered around the world, at any time, that wouldn't conflict with my mates - _since when have I been able to say that so easil_y - or my school timetable, and also, they had someone handcraft a locket. But not just any locket. On the surface, it was a simple, oval shaped necklace with steel vines and miniscule lightly coloured flowers printed on the tips, however on the inside, there was the Malfoy crest; which was merely the letter 'M', intricately designed, surrounded with thin, menacing snakes - of which I was sure hissed at me once or twice - and completely covered with a sheen of pure emerald.

The sense of familiarity, and simply belonging somewhere rushed through my veins, and before I could stop myself, I was hugging Lucius so tightly, I was sure I was cutting off his air supply. I hadn't realised I started crying until I felt a calming pat on my back, hushing me quietly.

"T-Thank you. A-all of you."

They all nodded, dismissively, and I went about collecting my new belongings, and was about to take them upstairs to my room when I heard a help of distress, and I went about letting my babies - AKA my dogs - back into the house.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

I knelt down and kissed the muzzles of Juju and Rokai; all the while coddling them like the adorable creatures that they were. Juju's fur was wet and muddy, as was Rokai's nose and the bottoms of both of their paws - and I can imagine that they had been playing in the garden while I had been asleep.

I rubbed at Juju's paws, and scowled at the dirt that rubbed off onto my hands, and cooed, "That's my big girl, why are you so dirty?"

She woofed jovially, and I kissed the crown of her head. Rokai pawed at my knees, asking for some attention. I was well aware of the looks I was getting from the others in the room, however, I was far too busy playing with my babies to care.

"Come on, mamma's gonna get you cleaned up," and I led them up the stairs, obviously after politely excusing myself from the living room. I walked into my the bathroom, and switched on the taps in the bath, letting the warm water fill the tub for a while. I made sure that the temperature of the bath wasn't too hot, otherwise I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Come on Roke, let's get you nice and clean," I picked Rokai up, and even though he whined a little, he eventually conceded, and I was able to puppy shampoo his coat and rinsed it off, and patted his down with his special doggy towel. I pointed at the tub, and Juju knew to follow the orders - she jumped in happily, and began playing around with the water.

I repeated my previous actions, and, when I was finished, I scratched all over their bodies, hearing their growls and yelps of satisfaction in return. I heard a perceptive chuckle behind me, and as I glanced backwards, briefly, I was surprised to see Narcissa Malfoy standing in the doorway, with her arms draped across her chest, and a diminutive smirk taped to her angelic face. She said, appreciatively, "They're both beautiful creatures."

I smiled, and answered, "Thanks. They get so messy sometimes, though, it's astounding that I even have the time to take care of myself, let alone them too."

She laughed, and crouched lowly, and, shockingly, began pampering and rubbing at the crowns of their heads, too. I glanced to the side, and saw a mischievous spark flare in her eyes.

"I don't get to do things like this very often. It's hard being the wife of an aristocrat," she relaxed then, with her back against the bathroom wall, and sighed, a nostalgic gleam working its way onto her expression, and she continued, "I was born into a noble family. My maiden name was Black. Narcissa Black. God, how entirely quaint. Anyway, I met Lucius when I was 11.. I was in Ravenclaw, he was a Slytherin, nobody expected us to make it, but we did. And after years and years of trying, we had our baby boy, Draco. I remember it clearly, the morning I found out I was with child. Lucius was out of his mind with worry. I loved him more in that moment than I had the entire time we were together, and that love is still here today. Stronger than ever, it seems. And yes, you may assume that because of the veela bond, we are blinded by our ties together, but it's not. We were in love, we are in love."

I smiled, and she reflected the gesture.

She finalised, "Please, do not think that because the fates have paired you together, you must be with him. However, it is true that I know the pressure you are feeling right now, I've been through it before. Just know, you will get through it, stronger and wiser than you have ever been."

She lay a hand on my shoulder, and I rubbed at the limb, contentedly. I felt as though my throat had closed up, and tears stung the corners of my eyes, sharply. My voice was thick and genuine as I pleaded, "How am I supposed to choose?"

She smiled, sadly at me, and stated, "You're not supposed to. It'll come to you when you're ready."

**Hope you liked this little Momma!Narcissa and Lost!Evelyn. I liked writing this chapter. It filled me with so many feels.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

As there was a very high possibility that I was going to attend Hogwarts - apparently a school for other children like me - the Malfoys had taken it upon themselves to order me a fresh new uniform - complete with a form-fitting, lower-thigh length black skirt, paired with a white, short-sleeved polo shirt, and a plain black blazer, without any kind of insignia or print to differentiate it. I tried on the uniform, and it fit perfectly; magically adapting to suit my new form.

They had planned an outing to a place called 'Diagon Alley' where I would procure my wand, familiar and broom. I chuckled, silently at the ridiculousness of the thoughts flooding my mind.

I had just finished combing through Rokai's short, wet pelt when I heard, "Are you ready?"

I tilted my head slightly, and saw the silhouette of one Valencia Zabini. I nodded, dutifully, and she smiled, widely, showing her bright, pearly white teeth, conveying just how utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful she was in that moment.

"Come on, then, sweetheart."

I followed behind her, gliding somewhat gracefully, matching her strides perfectly, and, after a few moments, we arrived at the front door, alongside the elder Malfoys.

Narcissa shrugged, offhandedly, and asked, "You ready to go then?"

Nodding, I opened the front door, that would lead to my new life. I kissed my parents on their cheeks, and they hugged me tightly to their bodies, although they would see me again, most likely within the hour.

When I asked why they were so upset, they simply babbled, 'We're just going to miss you, that's all."

I chuckled, a little nervously considering the tense in which they spoke, however, the anxiety was overshadowed by my undercurrent of excitement over the prospect of fulfilling my new 'life', of sorts.

Walking, rather slowly behind the group of adults, I enquired, "So how exactly do we get there, might I ask?"

Lucius smirked, and said, simply, "Magic, of course."

I smiled, eager for any opportunity to engage in the supernatural. Ever since I had been awake, I had felt, somewhat, hyperaware of my surroundings - everything around me felt languid and slow, yet my senses were heightened beyond the norm. Every scent, every cough, every breath I took, I could literally taste the magic in the air, and I felt nothing but anticipation.

I followed on dutifully, yet with an air of confusion about myself, and Narcissa held my hand and rubbed it soothingly. She whispered in my ear, "This is going to be so much fun."

I glanced at her questioningly, and she continued, "I've never had a daughter to do all of this shopping for. Neither has CiCi. So forgive us if we swarm you with things. We just cant help it."

I grinned, toothily, and her expression faded to something more neutral and blank. My eyebrows furrowed, quickly, and I asked, "What's wrong?"

She shrugged, casually, and lilted, wistfully, "Draco's just really lucky, that's all."

I blushed, under her intense inspection, and out of nowhere, Valencia held my other hand in her cooler one, and stated, knowingly, "As is my Blaise."

Lucius glanced back at the three of us, and gave us a minute smile, and said, "This way."

He pointed to the left; a narrow alleyway, completely empty of all life, except for a few decaying plants, growing through any holes in the dilapidated cement walls surrounding the vacant path. Although I was puzzled as to why we're going this way, I pursued, obediently, and you can imagine my shock when Lucius halted in the centre of the path, hidden from the view of any possible people passing by. Lucius held Narcissa's hand, who in turn held my own tighter, as did Valencia.

Nervously, I asked, "What are we doing here?"

Lucius chuckled, sagaciously, and responded, "You'll see."

A sudden tugging at my lower abdomen and I felt a jolting sensation attack my brain. It was as if all of the blood in my being rushed to my head, and I felt my equilibrium fall off-kilter for mere moments, before correcting itself. My eyes closed of their own volition as the sensations began, but now that they've stopped, I blinked frantically. It took a moment for my vision to repair itself, however, once it had, I noticed that we weren't in the same place as before. As a matter of fact, we weren't even alone anymore.

There were hundreds of people, hurrying through the streets, paying no attention to anything other than their individual destinations. I glanced around, in awe, and heard the chuckles of the people I had arrived with.

"Where are we? What's going on?"

I snapped my head to look over at my companions, and they all wore identical expressions. They faces were entirely regal and the epitome of composure, however their eyes held a sense of humour. Lucius was the first to answer, and his tone was entirely professional and business-like as he stated, "This is Diagon Alley. The largest shopping arena in England for witches and wizards alike."

It took me a moment to fully realise where, in fact, I was, yet once I did, the smile that overtook my expression was near blinding. Narcissa stepped towards me, and grasped my hand in her own, tucking it into her side. She leant down, and whispered in my ear, "Don't worry, we've got you."

They led me towards a rather feeble looking, equally tall as it was wide store, with the word 'Ollivanders' printed on the front, above the dark green door. The windows were tinted with amber, and the foundations were made of unstable wood, some of which had broken away due to age. The weather outside was typical of a British summer, and my skin flushed at the sudden change in temperature, as we entered the store, and I grinned at the disorderly state the shop floor was in.

With a shrug, Valencia said, "This is Ollivanders, the best wand shop in the entirety of London."

Sure, the floor was dusty, and the desk look frail and ancient, but it all added to the entire rustic aesthetic of the entire building. With nothing but wonder in my voice, I replied, "It's beautiful."

A Scottish feminine voice sounded off behind the door, "Thanks, I try."

Surprisingly, a young woman, with circular framed glasses, a cluster of freckles adorning her nose bridge and cheekbones, wild, curly ginger hair and light green eyes poked her head from behind the halfway closed door, labelled 'Employees Only', leading somewhere I couldn't see. She walked over towards the desk, and smiled, rather kindly, and said, "Hello, my name is Amelia Ollivander. How can I help you?"

Lucius walked over to her, with an air of seriousness about him that I had not seen until this moment, and laid his hands out on the desk, in a very candid manner. He asked, with no room for argument, "We are looking for a wand-"

She chuckled, and interrupted, "Of course you are."

I grinned, clandestinely, however she noticed, and sent me a rather teasing wink. Lucius coughed, brusquely, and continued, "As I was saying, we need a wand," he drew me forward by my forearm, and finished, "For her."

Amelia gave me a somewhat confused stare, and enquired, "Her usual wand broken?"

Lucius shook his head, and she asked, again, "Then why is she coming to collect hers so late?"

I enquired, "What do you mean, late?"

She directed her answer at me, as she said, "Usually witches and wizards come for their wands at around 11 years old, the start of their secondary education. So I'm wondering why you're coming so late to get yours."

I shrugged, and just as I were about to answer, Lucius encroached, "There was no need for her to acquire her own before. Now. A wand."

His tone was heavy with annoyance, and, even though I wasn't the aim of his irritation, l felt like akin to an accosted child. I couldn't imagine what she felt like in that moment.

"Okay, can I have her astrological star sign, please?"

I questioned, "Why do you need to know that?"

She replied, "Basically, every wand has its own astrological signature. Each wand doesn't just work well with anyone. They all are individual. In the back, we have over millions of different wands - each specified to a specific witch or wizard. If our first breaks, and we cant fix it, we have to find another, although it will never work as well as the initial. They integrate with our very soul, and more or less become part of us. I need your star sign to find which category your wand would have fallen in, that's all."

I nodded, and I said, "I'm a Leo."

She laughed, and muttered, "Brave, like the lion you adhere to."

She walked into the back, and shouted, "Date of birth, please?"

I replied, "Today. The fourth."

There were a few grunts of exertion, where I assumed she were gathering the wands we needed, and she said, "Year?"

"1995."

She walked back out, with six thin, black boxes, three in each hand, and laid them out on the desk in front of me.

"There are more that I'd like you to try, but these six are the most likely, taking into consideration your astrological heredity. Now, take your time. Open each box, take the wand in your hand, get a feel of it, and tell me the first word that comes to mind. Don't wave them. They can cause a lot of damage. I don't know what my grandfather was thinking when he made the others do that. He could've killed himself."

She pulled a long parchment from beneath the till of sorts, and said, "You can start now, if you'd like."

I glanced at Narcissa, who nodded, encouragingly at me, as did Valencia.

I slid the closest one to me across the desk, so that it was immediately in front of me, and flipped it open, noticing that the lining of the case was seemingly expensive, dull red velvet. I handled the wand with care, finding that the wood it was made of was sleek and dark in colour.

"The material of the wands are cherry wood. Sleek, smooth, easy to handle. However, the cores are all different. You can find what the core is by reading the back of the box."

I turned the first box over, and in gold lettering, the words 'Dragon Heartstring' were engraved. I fingered the wand, weaving it between my digits, and found the colour blue coming to mind. Without really realising it, I had said, "Sky," and a knowing look came to her eye.

"Not your wand."

I nodded, and returned the quasi-sentient instrument back into its case. This went on for a while, the second wand was, also, dragon heartstring, along with the fourth, none of them being my wand. The third was made of phoenix feather, and the final wand being made of Thestral tail hair.

This turned out to be the wand I had been looking for, as when I said, "Invisible," she laughed, and handed it over, almost eagerly.

"This is yours. Thestral hair. Look at that, pretty powerful stuff that is."

I nodded, not quite understanding, and asked, "What's a Thestral?"

She laughed, and said, "It's a magical beast, you can't see it unless you've suffered a substantial loss - like watching a loved one die. It's hard to catch, and even harder to tame, but once you do, they're loving creatures. My grandfather did not make these wands, of course, he couldn't have."

I smiled, and she finished, "This type of wand is very difficult to maintain. Temperamental, wild magic, all sorts, but it's strong, and fiercely loyal. It may be difficult to begin with, but believe me, it is worth it."

Lucius chose this time to speak, and he said, "How much will that be?"

She took the receipt number on the back of the case, and waved her own wand in the air - an amalgamation of numbers and letters appearing in the air, followed by a number, and she stated, "9 galleons."

Lucius drew out some kind of cheque book from his side-pocket, hidden inside of his over-coat, and signed away all of the necessary effects. Once she received payment, Amelia packed the wand inside of its case, then placed the box inside of a much larger container, and she lamented, "Here," she threw in a dark coloured, rounded rubber casing and a leather strap of some kind, and said, "On the house! Thank you for your business."

I smiled, and gathered it in my arms. Valencia tugged at my elbow, and I retreated back towards the pair of women I entered with. My hands were shaking slightly, and my nerves on high alert - I could just about believe that I was currently in London, England, let alone actually purchasing a magical wand.

I swear, there was no way my day could get any weirder.

**Have a great day, my lovelies!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

Valencia held my hand in her own, in a loving and calming way, and stated, her Italian accent heavy in her tone, "So we have been to Ollivanders and gotten your wand, now onto Gringotts. Shall we?"

I nodded, grinning, and she led the way to the north side of Diagon Alley, the complete opposite direction to Ollivanders. As soon as we arrived I knew that this was something different. The building itself had to have been at least 50 feet tall, and was leaning at some kind of slant, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa itself.

There were, once again, amber-tinted windows all the way from the hilt to the tip, all in sequential order. The insignia above the brass, heavy door was that of 'Gringotts Wizarding Bank.' Beneath the title was 'Fortius Quo Fidelius' which I already knew to mean 'Strength through Loyalty', due to my intricate tutoring in the language of Latin.

"This is a bank?"

Valencia nodded, and said, "Only bank in the wizarding world. It doesn't look like much, does it? Well, wait till you get inside."

I nodded, completely enthralled by the splendour of the magic that surrounded this place. It followed behind every person - _no, it should be witch or wizard, right? _- and weaved through every word they spoke. It flared brightly in every thought that passed through their minds, and in every shadow I could see. Even in the darkness of it all, I could see the beauty behind the word.

Magic.

What an inconceivable concept, yet it was right here, literally at my fingertips.

Valencia interrupted my thoughts, as she said, "In we go."

I chuckled as I was led in through the hefty entrance, and, once more, my skin flushed at the modification in warmth. What met my gaze was something of a mystery, that I even I couldn't quite describe. It was like I was looking into the eyes of a mythical creature, once I could only describe as some kind of elf-dwarf type thing.

"What exactly _are _they?"

My voice full of wonderment and curiosity drew laughs from the three adults, and Valencia replied, carefully, "Goblins. They're the keepers of Gringotts."

I nodded, not quite understanding anything, yet being completely content with it all.

I asked, "How does this all work then?"

Valencia shrugged, and said, "Nobody really knows what they do here. They work day in, day out, without any kind of disruption, ever. I'm sure they don't even take days off for leisure, but it suits them, which in turn, works for us."

I dipped my head in acknowledgment, and I smiled, while being led towards the desk, which was so high, that I had to crane my head upwards to look into the eyes of the goblin above us.

The goblin, who wore spindly framed glasses at the tip of his ungraciously large nose, his eyes beady and dark, and his ears flattened against the side of his head, said in a surprisingly eloquently and serious voice, "And how can I help you, Lucius Malfoy? Is there a problem with one of your accounts?"

Lucius regarded the goblin with an air of respect, as he replied, "There is nothing wrong with my accounts, thank you Kreutzer. We are here on the order of something more serious. I have a key here, for the joint account of the Totum's and Sol's."

Shock crept into the expression of the goblin above, Kreutzer, and he seemed to struggle to keep his gaze neutral and businesslike. He swallowed, slightly, and he stammered, "Totum and Sol's, you say? May I see this key?"

Lucius reached into his side pocket, and pulled out a regular sized, metallic key. The teeth attached to the blade were on both sides, with foreign markings all over the entirety of the key itself. He handed it to the goblin, who collected it in his emaciated fingers, keenly. Kreutzer inspected it, with great caution and care, and his eyes widened with each moment.

"How did you get this key?"

Lucius leaned forward slightly, and he said, "Can you assure me that this conversation shall be kept.. Under wraps, for now?"

Kreutzer nodded, feebly, and Lucius indicated that the goblin should follow on. He made his way down the many steps leading from the pedestal, to the floor, and I found that he was even smaller than I had first thought. He barely reached my knees, for Christ's sake! He glanced at me, once, with an air of indifference, and walked alongside Lucius.

"I was given this key almost 15 years ago by a very close friend of those two families, and I was instructed, upon the 17th birthday of their only child," he pointed at me, "I was to bring her here, and reopen the accounts in her name."

The goblin nodded, and regarded me with more interest than beforehand, and asked, "I have to ask a few questions, of course."

Lucius nodded, understandingly, and replied, "I understand."

We followed on, quietly, and listened on to the conversation going on. Kreutzer began his inquisition immediately.

"So you are her legal guardians?"

Lucius nodded, and added, "Yes, I, Narcissa and Valencia Zabini are her wizarding guardians, as would Severus Snape, may Salazar bless his soul."

Kreutzer acknowledged this, and pulled a small pad from his pocket, writing something down in messy scrawl that I couldn't decipher.

"And you are going to be overseeing the occurrences in her account, correct?"

I whispered to Narcissa, "What does that mean?"

She replied, "Just that until you're 18, legally an adult according to British and Wizarding Law, we'll watch over your accounts. We take none from it, if that's what you're worried about. We're just the name on the tin until you can take over, that's all."

I nodded, dismissing any thoughts of wealth. I wasn't interested in that kind of thing. It didn't bother me if I was insanely rich, or incredibly poor in this world, because I could do magic. How many people can say that? It was like, this blessed gift that had been bestowed upon me, drawing me from my fairly repetitive life back home. I had always felt somewhat abnormal, in relation to my family.

I paid more attention to the conversation going on in front of me, and I overheard Kreutzer ask, "There are a few security questions her parents have set. They need answering before I can give you access, you do understand?"

Lucius nodded, and nudged me forward, saying, "She's the one to answer them, if anyone must. It is her account, of course."

My eyes widened fractionally, surprise flooding my eyes, and I asked, "What can I do? I mean, I don't know anything."

Lucius rubbed my shoulder encouragingly, and said, "Don't worry about it. Just go with what your instincts say, you'll do fine."

I shrugged, but nonetheless agreed, and glanced down at the rather intimidating goblin below me. Just because he was smaller than was normal did not mean he was any less frightening.

He addressed me, casually, "So what is your name? Your full name, please?"

Instinctively, I replied, quickly, "Evelyn Kendall."

Lucius coughed, alerting me to something, and I glanced backwards, and he said, "Your real name, Evie."

A cleft appeared between my eyebrows, and suddenly it hit me. I amended, "Oh! Amarie Evelyn Totum?"

The words were so foreign coming from my lips, but I felt a sudden blossoming of recognition and.. I don't know, something akin to pure happiness nestled in my chest. He moved on, swiftly, "Okay, date of birth, please?"

Again, I answered honestly and quickly, "4th August 1995."

He nodded, simply, and enquired, "Adoptive parents names?"

My heart clenched painfully in my chest as I answered, "Lucas and Daniela Kendall."

He nodded, again, and stated, "Final question. Where were you born?"

I glanced at Lucius, then to Narcissa, and finally at Valencia, and they all wore identical expressions.

Guarded confusion.

They couldn't help me with this one. I had to think hard about this, on my own.

I paused, momentarily, and ran a hand through my hair, rubbing at the back of my neck out of habit. Stammering, nervously, I replied, pathetically, "I-I mean, I don't know."

Lucius said, "Think about it. Just relax. Cast your mind back. You can do it."

I closed my eyes, briefly, and inhaled deeply, trying to do as I was asked, and cast my mind back. But back to where exactly? How far into the recesses of my mind would I have to go before I found what I needed? I must have been standing still for all of a minute, breathing deeply, in and out, on a constant repeat, before I started to smell something akin to cow dung.

Grimacing deeply, I flittered my eyes open, only to find myself fixed in the centre of a large, encompassing field, surrounded by long tendrils of grass, that tickled the bare skin of my calves. I glanced around, trying to find somewhere distinguishable, that would tell me where I was, however I found nothing of the sort.

"Hello!"

My voice carried on the wind, silent to all those that may have been able to hear it. I sighed, heavily, and trudged through the mud and grass, walking as quickly as I was able, trying to find someone that might be able to help me.

I knew that I was trapped inside of my own mind. I couldn't have been literally in a forest, when a moment ago, I was in a bank full of people. I couldn't have been. Even magic wasn't that strong. It couldn't be. Could it?

I looked to the side, and found myself staring at a rectangular, white poster sign with the word 'Dublin' written in red writing. As soon as the words registered in my mind, the reality around me seemed to fizzle and fade away and I was back in the middle of the bank.

"Ireland. I was born in Dublin, Ireland."

That seemed to quell the goblin, and he nodded, content with the answer I gave. Narcissa stepped forward then, and grabbed my attention, and asked, "You okay, sweetie?"

I nodded, and said, a little quietly, "Just a little tired, that's all."

Valencia gave me a look of complete disbelief, and I bristled slightly against it. She stared at me, as if she could see directly into my very spirit. I couldn't imagine what was going through her mind at this moment, and if I were being honest, I didn't want to. Kreutzer cleared his throat, respectfully, and said, "This way, please."

And I followed, completely enthralled with the schematics of it all.

**Yeah.. Severus isn't alive in my story, yet he is a portrait in the very much alive Dumbledore's office, so she can talk to him when she wants to. Thanks!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

Being guided further into the cavernous tunnel was an exciting experience in itself. In complete awe, I could barely keep my mouth closed, and I knew that my eyes shone with barely hidden amusement and joy. Being a history buff myself, I couldn't help but notice the intricate designs of the dungeon-like passageway. It had to have been built during King James' era, as the carvings were akin to those in the cathedrals in France.

There was many exits that we had taken, twists and turns that I couldn't even remember a moment after we turned into it. Each brick that made up the bank itself seemed to have been fused with magical aura, and as I trailed my fingers over a few blocks, I could literally feel the magic seep into my skin, and prickle at the hairs on the back of my neck, causing them to stand on end.

The medieval gargoyles, all of different sizes, that adorned each of the corners of every aged pillar stood proud and strong, holding the upper layer above us, had fearful expressions engraved in stone they were made from. At one point I had stepped a little too close to one of them, and trailed my fingers across the face of one, and I heard it state, in a very accosting and masculine voice, "Do you mind, young lady?"

Needless to say, I squealed loudly, disturbing the other sleeping gargoyles, and ran away to join the rest of the group, blushing brightly, and tucked my face into Lucius' shoulder, and he grasped my hand in his own. I only received amused glances in return, to which I blushed even darker at.

We had to have been walking for about ten minutes before we even reached something of substance, and at a sound of coughing from the goblin below, Kreutzer, I realised this was the point where I was meant to do something.

I took a moment to analyse the crypt itself. I could clearly see the number 357 written in a fairly ancient numbering.

On either side of the vault, I could see bright, blazing torches, lit with flames that burnt with a dull green hue, shadowing the entire passageway with a somewhat eerie glow. There was a circular deadbolt which I assumed was the entrance to the depository, and on the left hand side, there were five small incisions in the wall, where I could see that I was meant to place my fingers.

There were two snakes, interwoven with one another, perfectly, designed intricately with stone scales and ochre jewelled, glittering emerald eyes, that shone with an confidence that I couldn't quite understand, considering they were inanimate objects. Located between each meander of the snakes body, there were the sinister eyes of an unknown animal that I couldn't describe, as I didn't recognise it.

There were beautiful flowers; lotuses, peonies and English roses, all decorating the bottom half of the bank, and it took me a moment to realise that there was something else just above the snakes themselves. There were intertwined hands, one woman, with pretty, thin fingers, and squared, prepped nails, and a man, with squared, gruff hands, with light hair coating his knuckles, and their thumbs were touching, intimately.

I glanced at Lucius, and then at our entwined hands, and said, "Those hands, up there. They're my parents hands, right?"

He nodded, and smiled, apologetically. I shrugged, noncommittally, and grinned, happily, knowing that I was finally about to see something involving my deceased parents. I looked at Kreutzer, and said, "Do I put my hands in there?"

He dipped his head, and handed me the key, "Position your hands there, place the key in the hole between the snakes temples, and turn simultaneously."

I nodded, understandingly, and did as I was instructed. What surprised me, however, was that nothing actually happened immediately afterwards. It took all of, maybe, two and a half seconds before the snakes themselves moved, and disentangled themselves, and locked in place, around the circumference of the circular deadlock itself, and hissed, somewhat menacingly.

I stared at the faces of my new family, of sorts, and they all gawked back at me, confusion written all over their faces.

"Who.. Are.. You?"

I glanced back at the snakes, who had taken a more corporeal appearance, and I couldn't hold back the gasp of shock that escaped my lips. Anxiously, I responded, "I am Eve- Amarie Evelyn Totum."

There was a beat of silence, while I held in a nervous breath and played with my fingers, clicking and scratching them, filling the quiet of the empty corridor. The snakes that had both spoke simultaneously, stared expressionlessly at me for a moment, while seeming to size me up, somehow.

"And.. Who.. Is.. With.. You?"

I fought away the urge to retreat back to the comfort of my companions, as I replied, "I guess they're my family."

Their eyes rolled to meet each others gaze, and they asked, "Are.. You.. Sure.. Of.. This?"

I nodded, without even pausing, and they seemed to smile, contentedly.

"Enter."

And the entrance split directly down the centre, and opened inwardly. From what I could see, the inside of the vault was barely lit, and seemed to have been freezing cold - if the grey hue was anything to go by. I stared at the Goblin, almost for reassurance, and he said, with a courteous bow, "After you, milady."

My eyes widened, with a sense of shock, and Lucius tapped me on the back, lightly, and said, "Let's go," and after receiving a reassuring smile, I followed, dutifully. Kreutzer walked in front of us, and ran his fingers along the wall, and pressed on something that I couldn't quite see, and the lights scattered across the room spluttered, then flickered lightly, brightening up the room, immediately.

What greeted my eyes was a sight to behold.

Circular golden coins, piled meters in the air, some having fallen to the floor over the years, and others piled on top of one another, until they were nearly as tall as Lucius. These gold towers went on for a far as I could see, and the reflection from the flames on the torches against the shining surfaces caused me to wince in surprise.

"What the hell is all of this?!," I asked, wonderment clear in my tone.

Lucius shook his head, shaking away some of his own shock, and replied, "It's your fortune, Evelyn."

I furrowed my eyebrows, and glanced at Kreutzer, and asked, "Is that true?"

He simply nodded, gracefully, and responded, "It is yours, Mistress Totum."

I ran a hand through my hair, in disbelief, and whispered, to nobody in particular, "This is trippy," and received a few chuckles in return.

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

Lucius smirked, and threw his arm over my shoulder, comfortingly, and said, quietly, "You can do anything with it. Spend it. Save it. Squander it. Give it away. Whatever you wish, it is yours."

Kreutzer wobbled past us, and walked further into the vault, and reached into a wall of some kind, and pulled out two rolls of parchment.

"This is addressed to you," and handed it to Lucius, "and this, is yours, Miss," and placed it in the palm of my hand.

I tore the seal, and unrolled it, as did Lucius, and he read it off to one side, away from both me and his wife, as well as Valencia, who spent majority of this journey, somewhat detachedly, in her own world. Glancing down, I ran my eyes over the piece of paper, and felt tears instantly prick my vision.

It read, "_To our beautiful daughter,_

_If you're reading this, then that means we are no longer with you, and for that, we are more apologetic than we could ever describe. Just know that we love you more than life itself, and we hope you have had a great life - we only wish that we could have been a part of it. We realise that this must be a very confusing time for you, what with your inheritance and your sudden upheaval from your life, but please, see this through to the end._

_We would never ask more of you than we believe you can handle, as you are a strong and beautiful young woman. I can only imagine what you would look like now, at seventeen. We wish, more than anything, that we could be with you, but sadly, we were taken from you too soon. I hope and pray that you can forgive us for being absent during your life, and again, your mother and I love you more than life itself._

_We wish for only the best to come to you._

_Sincerely,_

_Your parents, Marco and Adrianna Totum"_

The tears that had brimmed in my eyes fell over, and dripped down the length of my cheeks - falling silently to the floor, and I felt an indescribable sense of regret and grief descend over my form. As a cry escaped my lips, I felt a loving hand wrap over my shoulders, once more, and I was drawn into the chest of someone who smelt something like cinnamon and leather.

"It is okay, child," Valencia's light croon whispered in my ear, "It is alright."

Tears fell silently, and stained the material of her pale peach coloured blouse, and I whimpered, "I-I'm sorry. I-I'm ruining your clothes," and forced a smile to my face.

She shook her head, dismissively, and said, "It's fine, my dear, we all need to cry sometimes," with a demure, covert smile.

She ran a hand delicately through my hair, and wiped away any stray tears that had collected under my eyes. She grinned, reassuringly, and asked, "Now, all better?"

Nodding my head, suddenly overwhelmed with a unreasonable sense of being safe and secure, and before long, I convinced myself that I was well and truly fine. She smiled, appreciatively, and stated, "Good. Shall we get on?"

"Yeah, we shall," and glanced at Kreutzer, and asked, "Is this all that it in here?"

Kreutzer's eyes took on a thoughtful expression, and said, after a moment said, "Yes.. Is it not to your liking?"

"Oh God! Yes, it's perfect.. But.. Well I guess I'm just confused as to why there's so much here," and with an eagerness that even surprised me, I added, "Is there anyone else in the family?"

He gave me a grimace, and I took that as all the answer I needed. I didn't have any family left. The fact that I was alone wasn't what upset me, I'd known that ever since I was a child, but to have that fact finalised. It sent a sense of finality and 'end' through my mind, and I felt fresh tears spring to my eyes, of which I had to blink away rapidly, and exhaled, sombrely.

Comfortingly, Valencia asked, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, and said, "Yeah.. I'm fine, it's just a little hard to process, that's all," and when a cleft formed between her brows, I added, comfortingly, "I'm fine, really, don't worry about me."

She huffed, suddenly annoyed, and stated, strongly, "Of course I'm going to worry about you. You're family, what kind of mother would I be if I didn't are about you?"

Flushing deeply, under her concentrated scrutiny, I played with my hands, and, after a pregnant pause, she grinned, immediately lifting any heavy atmosphere surrounding us. Lucius chose that moment to glance up from the parchment him and his wife were currently studying, to give me an appraising smile, before enquiring, "Are you two feeling alright?"

We nodded, simultaneously, and, then, both released peals of melodious laughter together. Today was going to be a lot brighter than I initially thought.


	16. Chapter 16

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

After we left Gringotts, Lucius told us that we were more or less finished here, and all I needed to acquire was a familiar - or more commonly known as a pet. He said that I could choose any mobile, easy to maintain and somewhat naturally clean animal I wanted, that convened inside of the rules of Hogwarts School.

We strolled past the owlry, and I decided that owls, although they were stunning to look at, and spectacularly loyal pets, they weren't entirely for me. Their eyes were far too circular and seemed to be deep in thought, while simultaneously intimidating and scrutinising; they'd keep me up at night if I owned one. Plus, Valencia said that Draco and Blaise, who I had yet to actually meet, owned their own, each, so, they had assured me that if I were to ever need to send my own letters, they would be more than happy to lend me one for the job.

We stepped into the Magical Menagerie, and I was immediately hit with the scent of animal droppings, processed food, hay and sanitizer. The scents combined were enough to throw me off kilter, however, having been used to taking care of animals myself, I was able to get used to the stench, even though the noises were a lot louder and more exotic than I was used to.

I smiled, widely at the elderly gentlemen, who wore a silver and dark grey dress robes with the label 'Joseph' in black lettering, written beneath the breast pocket. I glanced around the room, once, and took note of the strange, wondrous creatures surrounding me.

An abrupt, concentrated caw gained my attention, and I saw a swarm of brightly coloured pygmy falcons, flittering around a cage, suddenly energized at my presence. Their sudden excitement shocked me for a moment, before I began feeding off of it, and found myself petting and playing with a few through the bars in the cage they were kept in. They were clearly a family; all of the same colour groups, reds and fiery yellow feathers adorning their bodies, and I knew I couldn't separate them, no matter how adorable they actually were.

I passed a basket full of spherical, puffballs of some kind, and when I reached out to stroke the silky pelt of one, I felt the cool wet tongue of _something _brush along my fingers. Quickly, I withdrew my hands, and crouched down a little closer to the basket, and I noticed I could hear a faint purring coming from somewhere inside the hamper.

"What are these?," I asked the shopkeeper, Joseph.

He glanced up from his conversation with Lucius, and replied, _matter-of-fact_ly, "Puffskeins, be careful, they're ticklish."

I backed away slightly, drawing a chuckle from the shopkeeper, and I went about on my way. I strolled past see through glass containers filled with bright orange giant snails, and spiders that actually set their environment on fire through their mandibles. A magically installed extinguisher, of sorts, excreted off white foam in whatever direction a new flame was created in, and I found the entire ensemble equally as impressive as it were intelligent.

Toads of all sizes and shapes bounded through their containers, croaking at everything and anything they encountered, they bulbous eyes trained on nothing in particular, and their chest expanding with every croak they gave. On one occasion, I even had to side step a white tabby cat, that sashayed across the shop floor, with her head held high, an emerald collar about her neck, and an air of confidence an animal should not have. It was almost.. Dare I say it, human-like.

I was so enthralled by the sheer brilliance of it all that I hadn't realised I had walked so far into the large store that I could no longer see the other adults, and in turn, they couldn't see me anymore.

Honestly, I probably shouldn't have, but curiosity flared inside of my very being as I saw a closed door leading off into somewhere unknown. For all I knew it could have just been a broom cupboard, or something equally as menial as that, so I felt no ounce of fear or trepidation as I pulled open the door, and felt a rather light weight fall upon my chest.

Before I knew it, I was flat on my back, having crashed to the floor, gracelessly, in a small heap, with a protective arm draped across the precious spotted tan bundle curling further and further into my chest cavity. I cooed, "What's your name, little guy?"

I felt a niggling in my mind, before a very childish sounding, male voice entered my thoughts, and replied, _"Jude, they all call me Jude."_

Tensing immediately, I stared into the wide, expressively blue orbs of the baby jaguar in my hands, and scratched behind his ear, lovingly. I scrambled for the words to say in this situation, and upon finding none that truly articulated what I was feeling, I asked, pathetically, "Was that you, in my head?"

He placed a paw over his eyes, in a somewhat apologetic manner, and replied, "_Yes, sorry if I frightened you."_

I shrugged, nonchalantly, "It's alright, I'm fine."

He purred with laughter, and I grinned, and held him tighter in my arms, as I hefted myself upward, just as the four adults came running around the corner, to find myself staring down at the beast in my arms.

"I want him," I stated, with conviction.

The shop owner glanced around, warily, and said, nervously, "Ma'am, we have many cats here. This animal is not for sale.. He's special."

I shrugged, not really caring for what the elder man was saying, something deep inside of me ordering me to keep this animal with me at all times was ruling over my emotions.

"No, I want him.. Please," I added on the end to try and sweeten the deal, however Joseph was having none of it. He even tried to forcibly remove Jude from my arms, however I pivoted and turned away, and began walking to the cashiers desk.

"Miss, I am not selling him to you."

"_He means to sell me somewhere abroad. I can hear him, sometimes, talking about my teeth, and how much they'd be worth," _and like a small child would, he added, innocently, _"I'm afraid of him."_

He nuzzled his face further into my shoulder, and I glared, harshly at the white-haired owner. I stood, and noticed how light and weightless Jude actually was in my arms. I rested his head on my shoulder, and his cropped spotted tail wagged joyously.

I stepped towards my father-in-law and whispered, in his ear, "Lucius, please, he's going to take his teeth and sell him to the highest bidder, and I stared into his guarded blue eyes, and continued, "Please, I just want to keep him safe."

Lucius took a moment, before confusion filled his expression, and asked, "How do you know this?"

I shrugged, flippantly, and said, "I can just hear him, in my head."

His eyes widened fractionally, then, after a beat of silence, he nodded, trustingly. He turned to the now-frightened looking man, and stepped, menacingly, towards him.

"Sir.. We are taking this animal, and I will make you a generous offer. You will be content with said offer, and take it with gratitude," and when Joseph went to speak, Lucius interrupted, "Ah, I'm not done. Now before you speak, let me talk to you in private for a moment," and took him back to the front of the shop, out of ear-shot.

Narcissa, Valencia and I shared an incredulous look, and, after a while, Lucius and Joseph, who's skin had lost a lot of colour, and had taken a more sullen tone. His hands were shaking, and he couldn't even look in our direction without seeming to freeze up.

He stammered, "T-Thank you for your business."

I glanced at Lucius, who seemed mighty proud of himself, and I grinned, widely. He lifted up two rectangular paper bag, with two intertwined 'M's on the front, and, with a small smile, he said, "Here, there are a few books on your little friend, he's not exactly a jaguar, they call him a minaguar. He wont ever grown past the size of a regular house cat, and his kind normally eat the scraps, like meat and whatnot. I even got him a little bed to sleep in while you're both away at school."

My smile grew with every word, and I heard Jude wail happily inside of my mind. I scratched the crown of his head, and he yawned, endearingly, in response.

"_Thank you, so much."_

I kissed his forehead, and said, quietly, "It's okay, you're safe now."

**Sorry.. I'm an asshole for making you guys wait so long, but I've been out of my house for the last few days - I've not been myself, really, so a change of scenery was great for me.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

We collected Jude in his clean, silver cage, and left the animal shop, quickly, after warning the malevolent shop-keeper against the illegal trafficking of his animals, otherwise there would be consequences far greater than he could imagine. Lucius had told me that I had everything that I needed, now, to begin a Hogwarts career in September, which was little under a month away.

Narcissa and I agreed that I needed to become literate in the subjects that I would be taking, because it would do me no favours being in my final year, and not having my intellect being on par with others in my year. I had already been told that I would receive no special treatment, simply because of my late inheritance, or my general lack of magical knowledge. Upon being given a brief explanation about a few subjects that Hogwarts offered, I found I was most interested in Astronomy, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Herbology, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures.

Valencia stated, "It's quite funny that you chose those lessons, as both Draco and Blaise already take majority of those classes. I hope that won't be a problem."

I raised an incredulous eyebrow, and thinking about it, I realised I knew next to nothing about the two people I was, in essence, supposed to spend the rest of my life with. A fact I had come to accept, and for some reason, I was looking forward to meeting them. I blushed, embarrassedly, and asked, somewhat shyly, "What.. What are they like?"

She glanced at me, knowingly, and without any malice in her voice, she replied, "I cant speak for Draco, as he isn't my own, but Blaise.. Well he's the best thing that has ever happened to me," and as if she just suddenly remembered something, she gasped, "Oh, goodness, we have another present for you, two as a matter of fact. From our son's."

That made me tense immediately, unease pulsating through my system, and, I felt something akin to anxiety in my heart. It was a lot simpler when we had had no actual communication between us, however, now that they had reached out, and contacted me, I felt really, truly nervous, for the first time in ages.

I stuttered, pathetically, "F-For m-me?"

Valencia chuckled, then nodded, slowly, and somewhat sardonically, and said, "Who else would it be for, sweetheart?"

I felt my skin heat up, and I rubbed a hand through my hair, clearly showing my mortification. She laughed, brazenly, and supplemented, "Oh don't be like that, they really want to meet you, you know," she said with a sly smile, and a lewd wink in my direction.

I rolled my eyes, playfully, at her, and she shrugged, noncommittally, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I would have been worried if they didn't want to meet you, you know."

I nodded, understandingly, yet I knew deep inside, I was so scared about seeing them. I didn't know if they'd like me, or if they'd think I was worthy of anything. I didn't want to know that. I didn't want that fact to be proven correct.

Narcissa enquired, curiously, "Do you want to see them, too?"

It took me a moment before I was able to reply, and when I did, it was a somewhat meek and quiet response. I shrugged, brusquely, and mumbled, "I suppose so."

She answered, "It is your choice, though, sweetheart. You decide how this goes."

I smiled, thankful, and she grinned, toothily, back at me. Out of nowhere, Jude pattered about in his cage, and I glanced downwards, worriedly for a moment, before relaxing as I noted that he was simply getting comfortable in his momentary cage. I looked at Narcissa, and then at Valencia, who both simply smiled and went about strolling doing the street, as usual.

Suddenly, I felt a tripling in my pulse, and a squeezing sensation deep in my chest, almost as if an invisible hand was clenching around my heart and tugging at it sharply. I paused, in the centre of the street, clenching my fists around the handle of Jude's cage, and felt my world begin to spin on its axis. My breathing began hollowing out, and speeding up, without my knowledge, and I felt my stomach convulse, uncomfortably.

Narcissa was the first to notice something was amiss, and she asked, concernedly, "Are you okay, Evelyn?"

I shook my head, shallowly, and swayed on the spot. She turned to investigate, and I felt my eyes cross uncomfortably. She rested a reassuring hand on my shoulder, yet instead of being comforted, I felt a burning sensation flare across the spot in which she was touching; it hurt, so very badly. I yelped, as quiet as I was able, and threw myself away from her body. Feebly, I curled in on myself, as I whimpered, "Don't touch me! Please!"

"I'm sorry, my sweet," and she turned to Lucius and whispered, "Luc, I don't understand what's going on."

I squinted, then when the vibrancy of the sun became too much, I covered my eyes with my fingers, pressing heavily into my sockets, trying to physically force the pain from lacing in my mind. I croaked, helplessly, "Help.. Me.."

I felt him take my in his arms, and the burning sensation restarted, but with more strength than beforehand. I began screaming and convulsing in his hands, and I knew that if there were people around me, I would have drawn the attention of every single one of them. Jude had been taken out of my arms, probably by a worried Valencia, and I heard him whine, feebly.

"_What's wrong.. Are you okay?"_

I hissed, brusquely, and I heard Lucius mumble some kind of incantation that I couldn't quite hear over the sound of blood rushing, violently, through my ears. The tugging sensation returned and I felt the vomit that I had earlier forced away return with a vengeance. Even though I felt like I was burning alive, yet I still tucked my face into his shoulder, and whimpered, pathetically, into his collar.

"It's okay, you'll be okay, I promise," and turned towards the other two women, and ordered, strongly, "Get the room ready. Tell the boys we are home."

There was a hiss of disapproval, yet they complied with his request, and left us alone. He laid my body down on some kind of cool, plush cushioned sofa and, once he determined me to be comfortable, he clicked his fingers, and I winced at the sound, and he whispered, upon realising how heightened my hearing had gotten in the last few moments. A frail, child-like voice asked, "Master, what can Binky do for you?"

Lucius doesn't miss a beat as he replied, commandingly, "Binky, get me some ice, please."

There was a popping sound, then silence, and then a returning popping sound, and I heard the sound of sloshing water, and the clinking of ice-cubes ricocheting together. My eyes were still clenched closed, and I decided to keep it that way, as the stabbing behind my eyes had dulled down slightly, yet I knew that it would hurt like a bitch if I, for a moment, even flickered my eyes open.

Lucius hushed me, "It'll be okay, here, see," and he pressed some kind of cloth against my forehead. The refreshing cool that blossomed across my skin and I immediately relaxed in his half-hearted embrace.

He leaned down, slightly, and I felt some strands of his hair brush against my cheek, and I gave a small smile as the scent of rosebush assaulted my olfactory senses. The sharpness of the scent made my stomach lurch, although it didn't smell bad in the slightest. He whispered in my ear, "I didn't want to force this meeting, and I apologise for putting you in this situation, but you're internal organs began failing, and I didn't even realise. I am so sorry, I failed you."

I forced my body to cooperate with me, to an extent, and I lay a soft hand on his cheek, and whispered, "It's fine. I'm okay-" yet I broke off halfway through my sentence as a sharp pain rippled through my entire body, and I ended up screaming out, once, into the fairly quiet air.

**"FUCK!"**

His grip tightened on my arm, and I heard the door slam open, with enough force to frighten Lucius - if the bristling of his aura was anything to go by, and a growl emitting from somewhere both enticing and intimidating vibrated throughout the room, silencing all within the four walls.

"Get away from her," a demonic voice sounded off, and I felt icy chills drip menacingly down the length of my spine. I whined, low in my throat, out of instinct, and attempted to curl away from the loud, demanding sound.

It approached me, along with a set of footsteps, and I felt a hand draw tenderly across my cheeks, similar to the way in which Lucius had earlier, yet a smidgen more lovingly. I clenched my eyes closer together, in trepidation, and instead of finding myself torn to shreds, which I would have associated with whatever being this voice was released from, I was drawn into the sinewy, unfamiliar arms of a fairly tall, sweet smelling man.

And then we were off. Soaring through the air at a speed that twisted and turned my stomach in ways foreign to what I was used to. I wasn't afraid of where we were going. It was more like, I was anticipating what was next. He chuckled, at something I couldn't see, as my face had been forced into the crook of his shoulder, and said, confidently, "Don't worry, I've got you."

Before I could even attempt to respond, I succumbed to the darkness that was tugging at my mind, with a sense of calm overtaking my entire being.


	18. Chapter 18

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

Draco POV

"Sweet Salazar, she's beautiful," Blaise whispered, and brushed his fingers against her pale cheeks, while I did the same with her thin fingered hands.

Ever since I smelt her sinfully enticing scent from our third floor bedroom, I had lost any control I may have had before over my own body. I had been working completely on autopilot, and I hadn't even realised I had her weightless form in my arms, until I had her in the safety of my room. My eyes had long shifted in hue, from the usual ice-blue to the animalistic, frightening amber-yellow, my claws had sheathed and my fangs hung over my rosy bottom lip, like that of a sabre-toothed tiger, stalking its prey.

Blaise had been so weak that he could barely move, but I knew that once he was in her presence, his inner beast would break through, and regenerate his energy source, and it had. He had come close to taking a chunk out of her neck, but I stopped him - he would never have forgiven himself. His skin looked less sullen and held more of the tanned, healthy glow it had before, and his eyes, still just as mischievous, were shining an intimidating red, instead of the striking indigo that we all knew and loved, conveying the deep, instinctual possessiveness that he was feeling.

"She is, isn't she," I paused, and sniffed her skin, lightly, "She's a true blessing."

He glanced down at me, and smirked, his shorter, sharper fangs protruding, attractively. I quashed the urge to lean up and kiss him, simply because my more impulsive desires were to protect my now-unconscious mate. There was only one reason why I wasn't downstairs, right now, ripping into my father, was because her breathing, no matter how faint, was still going strong, and I had to hold onto that. I didn't want leave her, and have her wake up without me by her side. I kissed her knuckles, briefly, and tasted something I could only associate with heaven.

Blaise did the same on her temple, and I heard his sudden intake of breath. He could taste it too. She was innocent, pure; something that neither of us were. I asked, curiously, "She'll wake up soon, what are we going to say to her?"

Blaise glanced my way, briefly, and sent me an indifferent shrug, showing that, in that moment, he did not care for anything other than being with this girl right now. I agreed with his sentiment, and dug my face further into the palm of her hand. Her skin was _so _soft against my own, and I felt small sparks of electricity run from her body through to mine, and I felt the stirrings of desire begin to set alight inside my veins.

On more than one occasion, I had to force my inner-Veela instincts down, and when that wasn't enough, I had to literally draw myself away from her, yet I always found myself subconsciously worming my way back to her, and fingering her left hand with my own.

Truthfully, I wanted nothing more, in those precious few moments, than to shake her awake, and kiss her like there was no tomorrow, and in my eyes, if there weren't, I wouldn't mind so much. Blaise glanced at me, and he grinned, knowing exactly where my train of thought was headed. Running a hand through my hair, I whispered, brokenly, "I want her, so badly, Blaise."

He chuckled, somewhat strained, and replied, equally as tense, "I know, I do too."

I glanced at her attire and growled lowly, at the lack of clothing covering her creamy legs. I rubbed small circled around the exposed skin of he calf with my thumb, and she whimpered, suddenly, even in her unconscious state. She recognised that I was here. I pushed myself further up the bed, and tucked my head further into the crook of her neck, and inhaled, deeply, smelling the remnants of whatever shampoo she used earlier - _mint - _and the soap that was still engrained in on her skin.

Before I could stop myself, I groaned, pathetically, "She's perfect," and he made a small noise of agreement.

"She's going to be a powerful one," Blaise commented, appreciatively, "I cannot wait to get her to Hogwarts, I'm going to have a hard time not showing her off."

I grinned, somewhat understandingly, yet my expression froze as I heard her give a light grumble of fatigue, and begin to move around in her sleep. She tucked her arms around Blaise's abdomen, and drew herself close to him, and pushed her face into his shoulder, like I had done earlier, yet while simultaneously, curving her legs in at the knee, and pressing the soles of her feet on my upper thigh, and her back against my chest. I moved my hands around her thin waist, and glanced upward, to see the shock in Blaise's expression fade into something akin to pure satisfaction.

It was gentle, but we both hear her breathe, "Mine," quietly, and fall back into her tranquil slumber. We locked eyes with one another, and our joyful smiles were filled completely identical. Blaise observed, "At least her subconscious recognises us."

This was a side of us that nobody outside of our families would ever be able to see. The carefree, content sides of us, and we liked to keep it that way. It made all of the time we spent together so much more special, when we could be honest and our true selves around one another.

I reached out and intertwined mine and Blaise's hands together, and he squeezed my fingers, comfortingly. Albeit sentimentally, I sighed, "I love us being like this," and he nodded in agreement. He whispered, "It's perfect. You're both perfect."

I felt my cheeks flush under his inspection, and I wasn't quite prepared for the light kiss he lay on my lips, and the subsequent one he pressed to the forehead of the girl laying in between us. He asked, casually, "Her name is Evelyn then?"

I nodded, quite taken with how protective Blaise was being with her, and added, "According to my father, her real name is Amarie, but she goes by Evelyn, which is her middle name."

Blaise gave a silent 'Ahh', and enquired, "What else did your dad say?"

I shrugged, and replied, "I don't know, I was too busy fighting off the urge to kill him, if I'm being honest."

He snickered, understandingly, and then his expression grow substantially more sombre as he asked, "Do you think she'll accept us?"

I gave him a bitter, grim smile, and replied, honestly, "I have no clue, and I'm in no rush to find out, so let's enjoy this, while it lasts."

He nodded in agreement, and I smiled, tucking my face back into her shoulder, and tightening my grip around her waistline.

I whispered, conclusively, "I just want to relax."


	19. Chapter 19

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

My eyes flickered open, shutting immediately as the harsh tendrils of light peeping in from the barely open curtains streamed through and assaulted my eyeballs. I winced, and tucked my face into the pillow I was lying on. A very warm pillow. A very warm, _breathing _pillow. Yelping loudly, when I realised that I wasn't resting my head on a plush cushion, but a very tanned, taut neck, belonging to someone I had never seen before in my life.

I slapped my hands over my mouth, and attempted to sit up, only to feel the hands that I hadn't noticed before, tighten on my waist, and as I glanced down, I saw a pair of paler, more ethereal looking fingers, entwined around my middle. Glancing behind me, I saw another, blonder looking man, and in a tizzy, I hissed, quietly to myself, "Oh sweet heaven, what is going on?"

Where was I? Who were these men? Taking a closer look at the two of them, my mind made a few connections, and I had to stifle a loud groan of exasperation behind my fingers, and I made a small face, unwillingly noticing how heartbreakingly beautiful these two men were. The blonde, Draco I assumed, was tall, sinewy, lithe and he looked muscular, to an extent. His white blonde hair fell into his blissful-looking face, and I bit my lip, slightly, becoming aware of how pale his own were, wondering how his would feel against my own, and I felt the initial wisps of lust bubble in my abdomen.

Quickly, I snatched my vision away from his idyllic expression, and I turned to the other, who had to have been Valencia's only son, Blaise, and Lord Jesus, was he gorgeous. His skin held a deep, resonating golden glow, and his hair stood stark against it, also falling into his eyes; like mixing oil and honey in the most delicious of ways. His shoulders were far broader than Draco's, he seemed more sculpted and agile, where as Draco was more refined and regal - they contrasted together, like fire and ice, and I couldn't stop the excitement from dripping into my ice-cold veins. I could tell that he seemed to be the more domineering of the two, what with his arms draped completely over my middle, his fingers embedded in the skin of my back, not uncomfortably, and my face having been tucked into his neck, and I must add, although begrudgingly, it was comfortable as hell.

Panicking a little, I wiggled out of their embraces, although it took more effort than it probably should have, what with both of their annoyed growls frightening me every few seconds, but I got out one of the men's holds, then fought away the warm, tense hands of the other, and fell, unceremoniously, off the far end of the bed, onto the floor in an ungraceful heap, and groaned, as quietly as I could. Eventually, once the world had stopped spinning on its axis, I made my way to my feet, my eyesight still sensitive to my surroundings, and padded to the door, then out of the bedroom I was in - taking in nothing of my surroundings.

Thank God they were heavy sleepers, otherwise I would have been well and truly fucked beyond belief.

I had to have been only walking for a few minutes, but I already knew I was lost. And very much so at that. Why was this place so God damn big? I mean seriously! Staircase after staircase, endless corridors, attached to more secret doors, and I had just about enough - I was ready to scream! I bit my lip, in confusion, and whimpered, my voice echoing off the cold, dark, empty walls, covered in nothing but expressionless, noblemen and stunning women, painted into the folds of time, "Where am I?"

A familiar popping sound made my turn around to face it, and I saw a miniature creature not dissimilar to that of the goblin from the bank, with larger, more endearing looking eyes, and a polite, respectful air about it. She, I learnt very quickly, stated, worriedly, "Missus shouldn't be being around here alone. Master Malfoy ordered Binky to watch out for a wandering Missus. Please, come with Binky now."

She held out her hand, hesitantly, almost as if she expected me to defer her, sharply, and I grasped it, tightly, in my own, as she led me down a few flights of unnecessarily long, winding stairs, down to the main foyer, where both Lucius and Narcissa awaited, with open, welcoming arms. The Lady of the Manor wailed, happily, "I am so glad that you are feeling better, Evelyn," and drew me into her embrace. Lucius simply lay a comforting hand on my shoulder, and nodded at me, appraisingly. I asked him, "What exactly happened last night?"

He glanced away, sheepishly, and Narcissa clucked her tongue, disapprovingly. She admitted, "We missed that you were feeling a tad sick yesterday, and the stress after collecting Jude must have knocked you off your feet. You basically began shutting down - we didn't realise how dependant you would have been on your mates, what with your vampiric nature, so we wholeheartedly apologise for that slip up. Apparently, being in your mates presence allowed for a speedy recovery. Now, that's all said and done, would you care for some tea, and maybe spending the day with me, you know, mother to daughter and all that?"

Her tone was pleading, but I could see the twinkle of manipulation in her eyes, and I shook my head, teasingly. I compromised, "Could I, maybe, get ready first? I'm in the same clothes as last night, and I need a shower."

She nodded, and clicked her perfectly manicured fingers, once, and the popping sound returned, although the creature looked slightly different to the one beforehand, Binky. This one had dark brown, wide set eyes, whereas she had dark green ones, and they both were adorned in matching, freshly pressed, crisp uniforms. He stepped forward and introduced himself, "Missus, I is Lucky. Lucky be taking you to the shower room, Missus."

I smiled, welcomingly, and followed behind the goblin-like creature, with an air of quiet, barely reserved curiosity bursting from my being. We arrived on the second floor, and he walked me down the seeming never-ending corridor, where we stood before a grand, rustic door, where he bowed, lowly, and elaborated, "This being your room, Missus. Your bath and clothes be getting ready. Please," and he held the door open for me to step inside.

What greeted me was something that I could have only imagined in my wildest dreams, and even then, that might be pushing it.

The walls were painted a light cream, rivalling that of a nude pallet, and contrasted with the deep, chocolate brown swirling patterns along the header and the footing of the walls, making it appear very demure and timeless. The overtly large, wide four-poster bed was pushed against the jutting out wall, making the bed the main focal point of the entire room, drawing attention from everyone, even if it weren't required. There was a rectangular, shag, expensive Arabian carpet beneath the bed, and the exposed floor was buffed and polished, making me feel as though they had been preparing this room for my arrival for a long time.

Off to the right, there was a door, leading off to somewhere else, which I assumed, from the fragrant scents bustling around within the vicinity, was a bathroom, and I smiled at the easy access. On the other side of the room were three cupboards, all in sequential order in relation to their size, and thrown open, with an equal number of elves bowed, waiting and ready for any orders. I blushed to myself, wondering just how high they seemed to hold me, and I couldn't help but bite my lip, in anxiousness.

Lucky tugged at my fingers, lightly, and my attentions were entirely focused on him. He said, simply, "This being the way, Missus," and he walked over to the secret door. He pushed it open, and once again waited for me to step inside before he did.

The bathroom also surprised me, considering I assumed it had to have been smaller than the bedroom, because _come on, _that would make no sense, however, they seemed to be about the same size, at least in height, of course. The bath, itself, wasn't actually a 'bath' per se, but more of a 20 foot, in length, width and depth, circular Jacuzzi-type shape, with a ledge made of marble inside, for us to sit on, instead of floating the entire time. This was dead in the centre of the room, with a few stairs on either side to step into it, and the sink was, also, made of a somewhat dull grey coloured marble stone, and shone under the artificial lights.

There were windows, a very wide rectangular shaped one on two of the walls, as a matter of fact, and I assumed they regulated the air in here, as I had only been standing in here for a few moments, and I was already feeling the clammy sweat build up on the back of my neck and my forehead. Lucky coughed, and I turned to face him, expectantly. He indicated at the rapidly filling tub and stated, "Lucky has been told to wait outside until Missus is finished, so, please, be enjoying yourself," and left quickly, without really saying much else.

The three elves standing by the closets followed out behind him, dutifully, their matching uniforms worn with honour and pride, and it made a small smile tug at my features, before switched off the hot tap, and inhaled deeply, the scent of jasmine, lavender and aloe vera filling my nostrils, and I quickly undressed, relishing in the fact that I was going to have the best, most euphoric bath of my entire life.


	20. Chapter 20

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

"Sweet goodness, that bath was positively_ sinful," _I yawned, as I padded back into the bedroom, a thick towel strewn over my torso and my the ends of my hair sticking to the skin of my back, even though I had tied it up, in the highest pony that I could have, what with it being soaking wet and all.

Assiduously, I let down my tendrils, and felt it brush against the middle of my towel-clad back. Dropping the towel quickly, and threw on the clean pair of underwear that awaited me, sitting innocently on the clean sheets. I still hadn't wrapped my head around this situation - I was more than ready for my consciousness to kick me in the ass, and laugh at my stupidity for believing such a magical place truly existed.

I heard a popping sound, and rushed to cover my body, recognising it to be a house-elf - not the goblin that I had assumed beforehand, and found that I was correct; it was Binky. She stared at me, somewhat perplexed at my behaviour, and I smiled, nervously. She asked, bluntly, yet still as respectful as always, "Missus, why do you being so nervous?"

I stammered, "W-Well, I'm naked, and you s-scared me, that's a-all."

Her forehead crinkled, and she replied, "So you beings naked is wrong?"

Vehemently, I shook my head, and lied, "Oh no, it's just me being silly, I guess."

She nodded, slowly, as if she didn't quite understand, however she eventually shook it off, and clicked her emaciated fingers, and a floating outfit popped up in front of me, frightening and astounding me, all the same. She asked, absentmindedly, "Will this be doing well, Missus?"

Unable to speak, I nodded, content, and she smiled, ushering me to begin getting ready. She turned around, with a smile on her face, so her back was to me, and I thanked her kindness, before actually getting down to business. Having someone so small tend to me was a new feeling, and I kind of liked it. She was like having my own personal stylist. Sometimes I would say or do things that, I guess, wasn't acceptable behavior of a witch, and she would just stare at me, from those dark, adorably wide eyes, in pure shock.

"Missus be having tea with Master and Mistress Malfoy this morning. The young Master and Sir Blaise with be joining you, methinks."

Tensing, slightly, I twisted on my heel, and asked, edgily, "Oh, is that right?"

She nodded, not realising how important what she just said actually was, and I felt my skin blush, immediately. She added, "Yes, Missus. The young Masters were scared when they woke and you weren't being there, Missus."

I felt guilt trickle into my system, before I brushed it off, waving it away as nothing more than gossip, and went about clothing myself. Even though Binky wasn't exactly a person, per se, nobody would be able to negate her fashion sense, because, let me tell you, it was sharp as a razor's edge. The stylish, sleek, soft cotton dress was a subtle peach colour, with vertically pointed collars, lined with a lighter cream, and a leather belt to tie around my newly defined waist. I slipped on a pair of beige flats that had appeared at my feet, and wiggled my toes, momentarily, to get them used to the shoe. I was beyond ecstatic to realise, while I was bathing, that there was next to no hair on any other part of my body, besides my head.

Of course there would have had to have been the odd fine hair on the length of my arms, but on both my lady parts and my legs, there was practically nothing to speak of. I wasn't particularly hairy beforehand, but I would have to thank my messed up genes at least this time, because they've saved me a hell of a lot of shaving time.

I sat on the bed, and patted my hair down with the towel, fully intent of leaving it the way that it was, however Binky had other ideas. She clapped her hands, and two other elves scuttled in, their heads low, and they eyes downcast. I frowned at this, and asked them to look me in the eye, to which they returned a simple, meek glance, and a synchronised hum of 'Yes Missus.'

I didn't like the thought of them being so afraid of me, so I simply fell to their level, and held their chins in my fingers, and stated, firmly, "You are to call me Evie, and that is that."

After some bartering, I eventually got them around to calling me by my name, with simply a 'Miss' before it, and I guess that was the best I was going to get. They sat me down, and went to work on my hair, swirling their hands around my face, practising wandless magic which left me dumbfounded, and after only a few moments, they grinned, widely, to which I had presumed meant they were finished.

Binky clicked her fingers, and the largest cupboard door swung open, silently, revealing a mirror, and inside of it, the reflection of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

Her hair fell in luscious waves, brushing her middle, and spilling over her shoulders, enticingly, and her ultramarine eyes glinted playfully, lined with a thin layer of kohl, and her already dark lashes tinted even more so, with the help of mascara. Her body was clad with a nude coloured sweetheart dress that fell to just above her knees, and suited her figure perfectly, the belt accentuating her curves, in all the right places. I smiled, politely, and I saw her expression morph to fit my own - and it was then that I realised that this beautiful creature was actually me.

"Are you ready to be going, Miss Evie?," one of the other elves, Rocky, asked, while pulling open the bedroom door. I inhaled, deeply, before turning to them, a wicked smile engraved on my face, and whispered, cheekily, "Let's do this, then."

**A little shorter than usual, but hey ho, another chapter for you guys!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

Draco had to have paced up and down the length of the beautiful pathway, leading to and from the observatory, located directly in the centre of their substantially-sized garden, ignoring his mother's cries for him to do otherwise. Blaise was feeling just as antsy, however he kept his composure, and sat in the chair, his left foot crossed bent over his knee, conveying a calm he truly did not feel. His only tell being the consistent shaking of his left foot, in time with his rapidly beating heart.

Waking up that morning, with nothing but empty sheets separating him and his blonde lover, Blaise couldn't restrain the colossal snarl that tore itself from his chest, startling the younger Slytherin out of his sleep, and vibrating through their floor of the mansion. They had searched throughout the tower, following her apt scent, only to come up empty, frustrating them both to no end.

Finally, they asked - read _begged -_ the owners of the Manor for some help, and they simply smiled, and informed the boys of this impromptu 'tea' with their mate. This is where she would decide what would happen from now on. It was always up to her. Draco could move on and find someone else to be with; never someone as heartbreakingly perfect for him as her, but still, it could happen, and Blaise hadn't survived the last year and a half of his vampiric inheritance drinking the blood of elk. Of course he fed from humans - never enough to kill, only to sate himself and his internal hunger.

Neither men would find anyone who would complete them in such a harmonious way, and the knowledge that she was out in the world, just a hairsbreadth away could send them directly into St Mungo's; like an itch, never scratched, only brushed and therefore irritated more. It made Blaise's skin crawl to think of what his life would be without her, now that he's lain eyes on her, he would see no other in his life for him. She was _it._

Draco was the more impulsive of the two; he would have no problem showing his love for her, physically sating her in everyway that he could with his body, and his unwillingness to share her with anyone outside of their triad, however the more emotional stuff, the 'love' and the 'caring' was something he had never dealt with properly before. Blaise, and now Evelyn, were the only ones who he had ever let sleep in his bed, and he didn't know _how _to show how much he loved her. Because he did. He knew he did. He could feel it in every heightened cell in his body; he practically vibrated with adoration for the young hybrid. But, how would he truly convince her of that?

He was in the middle of his 84th lap of the pathway, before he heard the petite footsteps pad down the stone stairway, rapidly approaching him and his family, and he felt his mouth dry up quickly, as though someone had forced invisible cotton wool into his mouth and watched him flounder for words. He sprinted back to his mother, and his lover - his father having business to deal with; the entire dreary ordeal of the Wizarding War still looming over their heads, like a gaudy guillotine, ready to slit their necks, like cattle being led to the slaughter.

Draco knew his father well, and he could handle his affairs with honour and pride, a way only a Malfoy could, of course, and they would come out of this on top, and still as wealthy as ever, even after the sizeable taxing they had experienced for their involvement in war. It was reparation for the dead, and honestly, Honestly, he was glad for it. He wasn't completely heartless; he didn't know what it was like to lose someone, and that didn't mean he was lining up to feel that kind of emotional distress.

He yelled, unable to control himself, "She's coming," and he noticed Blaise's body tense up, more so than he could have imagined. He was surprised Blaise wasn't bursting out of his finely tailored silk three-piece suit, the obsidian waistcoat complimenting his hair and skin very well. Draco had practically pawed through every article of clothing he owned, until he came across this - clean-cut, effective and dazzling on him, if he did say so himself. A simple pair of jet slacks, smart, shiny black shoes, and a pristine white button up suit, a tie noosed around his neck, and genuine dragon diamond cufflinks tucked in at his wrists. They glinted under the midday sun, and if you listened to the closely enough, you could practically _hear _the growling vibrating from the gems.

"Blaise.. Blaise, what if she doesn't like us?" Draco asked, hopelessly, while throwing himself in the seat beside him, and he glanced down at his Italian lover, the latter's eyes dark and guarded. Draco couldn't help but start rambling on, out of complete nervousness, and he could practically feel Blaise's annoyance ascend throughout his chatter.

"What if I say something, and she thinks I'm an idiot! Oh Merlin's knickers, I cant do this," he shot up and rubbed his now clammy palms against his trousers in an undignified, and very un-Malfoy-like way, and his mother chuckled into her dainty palm, while sipping her cup of green tea. He glared at her, not entirely serious, "It isn't funny, mother, this is serious."

She chuckled once more, before sobering up, and placing her smaller hand in his own, and stated, seriously, "You will do fine, Draco. She is a wonderful young lady, and she will see the good in you, no matter what."

Draco felt the invisible burning of the Dark Mark, reminding me of his past mistakes, and undermining any self-confidence he may have built up beforehand. What if when she sees it, she finds out the meaning behind it and turned him away because he was a monster? Because he's hurt people, and he did it all to save his pathetic life? Because he aided the most homicidal, psychotic wizard of their generation, all because he was a little bit scared? He knew that he was a disgusting human being, and someone as pure and perfect as Evelyn shouldn't b-

His inner torture was promptly cut off by Blaise's mouth working furiously against his own, one of Blaise's hands tucked deeply in Draco's hair and the other grasping Draco's face in his palm, while he practically sucked all of the negative energy out of the younger blonde's body, and he felt lighter, and all mushy and warm inside, and it made his scowl, internally, of course.

Why would he ruin such a beautiful moment?

How could he?

Eventually, after Draco had calmed down, Blaise pulled himself away from him, and gave him a very meaningful stare, before tugging him by his tie over to the three-seated sofa, beneath the white flittering canopy, and ordered, flatly, "Get it together, Malfoy. This is on both of us, right now, and you're not going to mess this up, because you're scared. You think I'm not? This girl is the most important person in his life, and this is the moment where she decides if she wants to be with us."

The Italian's glare became more intense then, and he stated, "Now, come on, because this is our first, and only, chance. She doesn't have to be with us, she can turn us away, but we have to convince her otherwise," and as he tugged Draco's shirt so it was presentable and fixed the blonde's hair so it didn't look at out-of-sorts, he added, "Now get your head in this."

He nodded once, assuring him that he wouldn't let him down, and relaxed into the seat, and turned his head towards the approaching footsteps.

She was outside.

It would only be a few moments before they would properly lay eyes on her, and they relished in it. The tense atmosphere, the sun beating down on them and the cooling charm his mother had cast on their conservatory swirled cool air around the area, still allowing for the odd stroke of heat to touch them, and remind them of what a beautiful summer day it was.

Yes, a beautiful one indeed.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**_

_**This story takes place after the war.**_

**3****rd**** POV**

Evelyn followed behind Lucky, who had met her and her new elfin friends at the foyer of the manor, and found herself being led out towards the largest garden area, if it could be even called that, she had ever seen. It captured her attentions immediately. And by that, she meant it was stunning. She couldn't even articulate the emotions swarming her stomach at the magnificent sight.

There was a long cobbled pathway, attached to the stone stairway that they were stepping down, and on either side of said pathway, there were rows upon rows of beautiful, sweet-smelling, vibrant flowers, surrounded with insects, and just the essence of nature itself. The sun beat down on the back of her already-tanned neck, and strangely enough, she had thought she would have worked up some kind of a sweat by now, however there was an odd cooling sensation that had blanketed her lithe form. There was a cool breeze, that chilled her spine, and in the distance, she was sure she could see exotic birds and woodland animals gallivanting through the open space; a large, circular fountain being the main attraction piece near the far left of the garden itself. The path reached all corners of the estate, and she presumed that if she had followed it on, until its end, she would find herself miles and miles away from her current position.

Foliage surrounded us, trees as high as the skyscrapers in New York towered over her short frame, and she couldn't stop herself from marvelling at the sanctuary itself. Whomsoever created this was not only a genius, but they had to have been a spectacular person, inside and out, to build an area of such intense, magnificent splendour. She was being led towards a high canopy, of sorts, closed off by an elevated, brass gate, made up of swirling, enchanting patterns, and as Lucky pushed it open, she was hit with the familiar scent of a honeysuckle, rose and lavender blend. Someone was making tea, and it smelt delectable.

Lucky held out his arm, respectfully, and she continued on, cautiously, expecting the worst. She pulled back the curtain, blocking her vision from whoever was behind it, and was met with the shocked, and awed gaze of three people; Draco, Narcissa and Blaise. The two men seemed unable to take their eyes off of her, and she felt ever so self-conscious, and idly wondered if she had anything on her face. Blinking, vacantly, she struggled to find the words to introduce herself to the two men she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with, and sighed, giving up on finding some kind of intelligent introduction, and mumbled, pathetically, "Hi," with a reserved smile.

That seemed to shatter whatever ice had formed around them, and Draco shot out of his seat, and he walked over to her, slowly, and it was as if he were being precautious, as though he thought she would sprint away the first chance that she got. He replied, quietly, "Hello," and smiled in a way that set all of his features off brightly, and under the rays of the sun, he truly looked like an angel. Blaise had yet to move from his spot, and as she glanced at him, she noticed how tightly his fists were wound, and how he couldn't even look in her direction.

Her first thought was immediately negative, and she couldn't help but keen - _of course I've done something wrong, how fucking embarrassing - _however Draco sensed her discomfort, and he stared at her, questioningly. Her ultramarine eyes subconsciously flickered behind him, and he turned to follow her line of vision, only to sigh, understandingly. He turned to me, and apologised, "Blaise has trouble with his.. Other side sometimes. Your scent is especially difficult for him, he'll be okay," and the comfortingly, he added, "Don't be afraid."

That sparked something within Blaise, and he stood them, a determined streak in those indigo, profound, intelligent eyes, and he regarded me with the utmost politeness and sincerity as he introduced himself, "Hello, Evelyn," and he walked over to me, and grasped her hand in his much cooler one, and brought them to his lips.

For a brief moment, she thought he might bite her or something, but he didn't; he simply kissed the skin of her knuckles, and rubbed soothing circles with his thumb, over the slightly pulsating spots where his lips touched. she found that she wasn't against him holding her hand, and Draco did the same, taking her fingers and interlocking them with his own. It wasn't entirely personal, nor was it intrusive, but it offered a sense of protection, and she found that she liked it.

"Please, join mother for tea," Draco said, his British accent catching off guard, slightly, and caused her to swoon a little on the spot. She followed his steps, and he set her down, softly, in a fairly sturdy chair, opposite his mother, who simply grinned at me, delight swimming in her ice-blue orbs - the eyes her son had acquired from her, she believe, and she offered Evelyn a cup of warm tea. Blaise and Draco sat on either side of me, both of their hands atop the fawn tablecloth, identical sheepish expressions on their faces.

"Yes, thank you," and she waited until she had finished pouring me a cup of cream tea, and when she held out the sugar cubes, she said, sheepishly, "4, please."

Blaise gave me a strange look, and she offered, "I have a sweet tooth," with an blithe shrug, and he seemed to shiver, slightly. It could have been her mind playing tricks on me, however, so she disregarded it, quickly.

"So.. How are you finding our world, then, Evie?," Narcissa asked, innocently, however she could hear the implication in her voice, and she replied, tactfully, "I like it here, its.." then not finding an appropriate word, she finished, "Its perfect."

Draco enquired, airily, "Are you familiar with magic?"

She shook her head, embarrassed, "No, I didn't know it existed until a few days ago. I mean, I'm 17, and I cant imagine the things that you can do," and she bit her lip, anxiously. Blaise sucked in a sudden breath, and she felt her forehead crinkle, exponentially. She asked him, finding herself strangely relaxed with the people I'm around, "Are you feeling okay, Blaise?"

He paused, briefly, and, in a quiet voice, he asked, "You know of me?"

Grinning, brightly, she answered, honestly, "Of course. Valencia doesn't stop talking about you," and blushed brightly, over the insinuation of her statement. Draco shuffled in his seat, slightly, and she turned to him, confused, and he placated, dutifully, "Getting comfortable, is all."

Evelyn raised an disbelieving eyebrow, but dropped the subject, and sipped her tea, quietly, the ardent liquid warming her mouth, and she swirled the sweet tasting fluid across her tongue, and relished in the intense, sugary taste that swarmed and tantalised her taste buds. Placing the balmy porcelain teacup atop the buttery doyley, she turned to Narcissa and complimented, "Your grounds are beautiful, Narcissa."

She clicked her tongue, and waved a dismissive hand in the air between them, and ordered, "You are to call me Cissy, everyone does," to which Draco felt his heart clench wildly for a moment, before settling deep in his stomach. His mother and his potential life mate were actually getting along - this was better than any dream his psyche could have conjured, and he watched on as the two most important women in his life laughed and joked with one another, seated daintily in their chairs. Blaise, noticing Draco's tense nature, and assuming the worst, reached out and, covertly, grasped his hand in his own, rubbing soothing circled above his thumb, causing the blonde to sigh, happily, an unknown emotion bubbling in his chest, threatening to spill from his tightly drawn lips.

What could this possibly have been?

Anxiety? No, that feels more like pricking pins against the surface of the skin, whereas this sensation was more like a frivolous winds, caressing the hairs on his arms, teasing him into oblivion. It wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest, but it was strange. He didn't like not knowing what's going, especially within his own body, so he would have to look this up when he was on his own. Blaise whispered, quietly, in his younger lover's ear, "She's pretty much perfect, isn't she?"

Draco nodded, unable to speak as a ray of sunlight brushed against his mate's face, and.. He couldn't even describe what she looked like, but the look on his face said it all. Blaise could see it, Hell, his mother could see it. He was smitten with her. And all it took was a few choice words, and a pointed smile, and he was done for. Draco sighed, and reclined in his chair, his heart beating ever so rapidly in his chest, watching the love of his life laugh, adorably, at something his mother said, "What are we going to do, Blaise?"

His only response was a simple shrug, and a gentle squeeze of his hand.


	23. Chapter 23

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

Blaise had excused himself from the canopy, because, if he was being honest, another moment with her addicting scent fogging up his mind, he would lose his cool, and give in to his more primal and feral desires. As soon as he turned his face from her endearing, surprisingly worried expression, he felt his canines drop, suddenly, and pierce his bottom lip, and he winced. He practically sprinted back to his quarters at the Manor; Draco had his own at Blaise's manor in Italy, and practically snapped the door off of its hinges, throwing himself into the middle of his dark room.

He was glad the shutters of his windows were closed as he could practically feel the darkness creep into his irises. He growled, loudly, and he felts the vibrations from his mouth ricocheted off of the walls, and he could pinpoint where Draco, who had followed behind him, shortly after.

Cautiously, Draco pushed open his door, and winced at the sight of the severely dishevelled Blaise, rocking back and forth, with his hands draped over his middle, growling in an inconsistent rhythm, and he couldn't help but sigh, sadly. He sauntered over to him, and placed a light hand on the back of his neck.

This had only ever happened once before, and it was when Blaise had first turned, almost a year an a half ago, on his 17th birthday. He had apparated to Draco's manor, breaking through the wards, stinging and hurting himself in the process, screaming about an invisible burning in his throat, and Draco had taken him to his bedroom, just so that they could at least have some privacy. Blaise had, choppily, explained that he what he had turned into, and how he didn't want to be like this - even though he had known his whole life that it was more than likely that this would happen.

"_Sshh, it's going to be okay, Blaise, just.. Come here," _and Draco had gathered the sweating, weeping mess of his best friend in his arms, and they lay together, for the whole night, Draco's hands never stopped running through his hair, coaxing him into an uncomfortable, restless sleep.

"Blaise.. You need to feed," he said, firmly, knowing where this was going to end up, eventually. He unfastened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt, waving his wand, and conjuring a hanger, so his shirt would at least be wearable afterwards. He shimmied over to his unstable oil-haired lover, and bared his throat, invitingly.

It took Blaise all of three seconds before he had latched onto the pale expanse of his skin, and sank his teeth into his jugular. His canines pierced the skin, as painlessly as he could in his state of mind, and he drank from the blonde Slytherin until his hands had stopped shaking.

Feeding fresh from the vein had become an unusual thing for Blaise, who had taken to using blood bags, supplied from St Mungo's instead of live subjects, unless they were engaged in sexual activity, where the senses were equally heightened as they were numbed. He pulled Draco into his lap, and the blonde writhed under the intense sensations that skirted across his body, pooling in his groin, behind his ears and rushing to the tips of his fingers. He wound his fingers in Blaise's dark locks, and the vampire gave an appreciative growl of approval.

Quickly, however, the older of the two pulled away, and wiped his mouth away with the back of his hand. He used his thumb to wipe away any excess blood that had pooled in the collarbone of the blonde, and thanks to the veela's advanced healing, the puncture wounds were gone, almost as soon as he had fastened up the final button of his dress shirt.

The Italian brushed, then scratched the back of his neck, entirely embarrassed at the situation, and the subsequent loss of his carefully constructed control, and whispered, quietly, "I-I'm sorry, Draco. I.. I just cant _help _it. I need her. I crave everything about her, but I don't want her to be afraid of me. I just.. I cant! Her scent is everywhere! It's driving me _crazy, _and I'm so scared that I'll do something that I will regret - you just don't fucking understand!" he finished brokenly, and Draco understood, perfectly.

After he finished redoing his tie, checking in the closet mirror that he looked good - and he did, as he should, Malfoy's didn't _do _unkempt and messy - he stepped forward and embraced Blaise in his nimble arms, and said, firmly, "Blaise. She's not like any other girl we've ever met. She's intelligent, she's welcoming, she's beautiful. And guess what?"

"What?"

Draco smirked, "She's going to be ours," and finished with a small fist to his oldest friend's shoulder, which brought a smile to the older vampire's face. He smirked at his pale lover, and pressed their foreheads together, and they soon cleaned up, and left, to return to their mate's side.

"Oh, I wondered where you two went off to. Are you feeling any better, Blaise?," Narcissa asked, as she saw the two of them return, entirely more fresh-faced and content-looking, and Blaise replied, "Yes, thank you, Cissy. I just needed to.. Take a moment," with a charming smile on his face. Evelyn felt her face heat up, immediately, at the intensity of his grin, and she noticed that he would probably be a force to be reckoned with on an everyday basis. His confidence had returned full-force, and refused to allow his vampirism to ruin his chance with this wonderful girl that he had the pleasure of calling his life-mate, so he asked her, directly, hoping that he didn't intimidate her, "Evelyn.. How are you feeling today?"

The girl in question practically choked on her fourth cup of cream tea, and turned to him, her gorgeously vibrant ultramarine eyes were wide and, honestly, confused as to why he was talking to her. Her wits revisited her, thankfully, and she replied, nervously, "I'm.. I'm fine, thanks, and yourself?"

He nodded, politely, and smiled at her, to which she returned fully, and Narcissa took this as her cue to leave. She stated, formally, "Well, I think it's time for me to leave. Evelyn, it was very nice spending time with you, and I would be overjoyed if you would join me for brunch tomorrow afternoon, around midday?"

Evelyn nodded, not quite sure what 'brunch' was, but she was glad she was going to spend some more time with Narc- _Cissy_, she corrected in her mind, and even more overjoyed at the prospect of having a face-to-face conversation with the two aloof, mysterious men she had only scratched the surface of.

"Good. Now, I shall take my leave. Draco, Blaise," she regarded them coolly, "Behave," and then she was gone, wandering off back towards the manor, a secret, smug smile creeping onto her expression, and nothing but hope blooming in her heart.

Yes, this would be good for them. All of them. Evelyn could quite possibly be the glue that unites their houses together. Narcissa could barely hold back her yelp of glee at the thought of all the trips they would take together, all of the memories they could make. The possibilities were endless. She wondered, idly, what Evelyn thought about having a spring wedding, instead of the typical summer one. Oh, goodness, she was fit to burst at the seams with happiness.

Now, it was all up to her boys.

She silently hoped they could woo her, in a way fit for the princess that she truly was.

**Evie POV**

I coughed, lightly, and rubbed my thumb against the fleshy part of my palm, and stammered, "S-So, y-you guys are.. Wizards?"

They shared an incredulous look, before Draco - _Jesus, he was gorgeous_ - answered, "Yes.. As are you," then paused, before a gleam flared in his eyes, and added, "So you're coming to Hogwarts in September?"

Shrugging, but not understanding where the conversation was going, thus blushing in pure embarrassment, I answered, "I don't know."

Blaise - _Christ, he couldn't be more perfect if he tried _- cleared his throat, regally, and clasped his hands together, the epitome of calm, and replied, "Well.. We were hoping that you would."

I blinked, then glanced away, their combined attraction causing my vision to blur slightly around the edges, I responded, "I havent given it much thought, Hell, I didn't even know _what _I was three days ago, and now I have to start a new school with people I don't know, and.." I broke off with a sad smile, and finished, "Its just a lot to take in, that's all."

They stared at me, as though they hadn't even given these facts a thought, and Draco answered, gravely, after a beat of silence, "We're sorry."

Shaking my head, immediately, I consoled, "I know.. It's not your fault."


	24. Chapter 24

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

**Evie POV**

"Do you want to take a walk with us, Evelyn?," Draco asked, his hands clasped together, an unreadable expression in his eyes, and I couldn't help but choke a little on my tongue. I babbled, blushing brightly, "O-Of course. That sounds nice."

They both stood, simultaneously, and I followed suit, biting down the chuckle that threatened to escape me over how comical they looked together. They were both clad in ravishing formal clothing, that suited their body shapes to a tee, and I couldn't help but gawk a little at the size of their muscular forms. Inhaling deeply, I shook my head of those thoughts, and questioned myself over what exactly this would mean for me as a person, rather than me as the vampire-veela hybrid that I was.

"Milady," Blaise lilted by my side, and I giggled, absolutely beside myself with happiness over the face that we were actually getting along. I was sure I had fucked up when he had practically stormed away, followed by an anxious Draco, leaving a shocked Cissy and a crestfallen me in their wake. Needless to say, I was overjoyed when they returned, and glad for their change in attitude. They seemed entirely more.. Animated, and, dare I say it, happy. I decided to relax and let myself be _myself _and I fired off the first thing that came into my mind, "So.. What do you guys do for fun, then?"

Draco glanced at me, shocked for a moment, then replied, casually, "Personally? I like playing quidditch.. And I'm guessing by that face you're pulling, you have no idea what I'm talking about, huh?"

I shook my head, my hair shaking with me, and he shrugged, "It's a wizard game. We play on brooms," and I couldn't help it, I laughed, a little louder than I probably should have, and Blaise smirked in my direction, however at Draco's serious expression, I sobered up, quickly. He huffed, proudly, and I found it a little adorable, if I were being honest, and he continued, "It's hard to explain to someone who doesn't understand it, but think of it like football.. You call it soccer, right?," and at my nod, he added, "The ball, or quaffle, is passed between the teams, like a football, and you try and get it in the goals."

"That sounds like a lot of fun.. So you run around on brooms?," I asked, confused, and Blaise practically howled with laughter, and I felt my face heat up, brightly, embarrassed that I had unwillingly made a fool of myself in front of these two guys. He apologised, chuckling still, "I-I'm so sorry, but.. Shit, I cant breathe.. We don't run, we fly."

He said it like it was absolutely nothing, and I stared at him, blankly, for a few moments, before his face broke out into a wide smile, and his snow-white teeth glinted back at me. He asked, "You've never flown?"

"Yeah.. In a plane. Like normal people. But.. On a broom? No, never."

And he smirked at me, his eyes sparkled with mischief and I felt the telltale signs of nervousness creep into my system.

_-0-_

"JESUS CHRIST! LET ME DOWN!"

Blaise hollered with laughter, and I tightened my grip on his waist, if only to keep myself from spiralling to the ground, to my untimely death. We were only, maybe, 30 feet off of the ground, no higher than the average tree, and still, I felt complete and utter horror pulsate through my veins at the prospect of falling. Draco slid past us, sleekly, a bright smile on his face, removing his stress-lines and making his appear years younger than beforehand. He yelled, over the wind, "Are you having fun?!"

I growled, loudly, and pleaded, "NO! PLEASE! _LET ME DOWN!," _tears collecting in my eyes, and he seemed to snap out of whatever happiness he was feeling, and worry snuck into his expression. He told the waiting Blaise, "Let her down. She's upset."

I tucked my face further into Blaise's collar, and tightened my hands around his middle, digging my fingers into his abdomen, and he glanced back at me, worriedly. He asked, with care, "Are you okay?"

I whimpered, "I just want to get down, please," and clenched my eyes closed.

Before I knew it, I felt my feet touch the soft grassy ground, and I threw myself off of the damned broom from Hell, and heaved in gulps of fresh, still air. Blaise lay a hand on the small of my back, and I felt a few tears fall from my eyes; not out of fear or distress, but simply the turbulence having attacked my face over and over again caused tears to well up in my eyes. Draco and Blaise began whispering to one another, and I tried to straighten out, even a little, so I could assure them that I was okay, but once I attempted, the world began spinning a little.

I whined, "Good God, I cant see," and Blaise placed his other hand on the back of my neck, and drew my upward, his hands cradling my cheeks, and stared in my unfocused eyes. He assured, "You're going to be okay. You're just a little dizzy."

I nodded, then groaned, and he smirked at that. He turned to Draco, who was staring at anything, just to avoid his eyes, of which he wasn't happy with. He stated, "Hey, Drake, stop beating yourself up about it. She's fine, she's just not used to the height, that's all."

Draco mumbled something I couldn't hear over all of the blood rushing to my brain. I moaned, lowly, and Blaise turned back to me, before sighing, and led me back towards the manor. Before I knew it, we were under some kind of shade, and as I glanced around, we were simply on the patio of the garden, and as I kicked off my shoes, the cobbled floor was smooth and strikingly cool against my heated skin. Blaise clicked his fingers, and Binky popped up out of thin air once more, a respectful smile on her face.

"What can Binky be doing for Master?"

Blaise smiled, and I noticed that Draco remained silent and stony-faced as before, an expression I found myself loathing on his ethereal face, and asked, "Binky, can we have three glasses of water please? You know how we like it?"

Binky nodded, and Draco added, almost silently, "And anything that Evelyn would like."

They all turned to me, and I simply shrugged, and he asked, "Have you eaten any breakfast? I mean, besides the tea?"

Shaking my head, I realised that I actually hadn't eaten anything, and I wasn't at all hungry, at least until he mentioned it, and now, I couldn't focus on anything other than the uncomfortable emptiness that lay in my stomach. I asked, shyly, "Could I, maybe, have some toast? Just.. Something small will do, thank you."

She disappeared, and Blaise reprimanded me, softly, "You shouldn't miss breakfast, it's important. Weren't you hungry?"

_Not for food, if that's what you mean._

"No. Not really, I was too busy screaming for my life, that's all," I joked, playfully, to which Draco winced minutely, and clenched his fists together, tightly. I could see that whatever he was feeling was causing a tense atmosphere to appear between us, so I took the initiative, and followed my instincts.

I padded over towards him, and crouched low, and lay my hands on his knees, and waited until he was ready to talk. Blaise watched me, scrutinising my every move, and the silent question hung still in the air; what are you _doing_?

"Draco.. Hey, do you want to talk about it?," I asked, reservedly, and he pouted, minutely, before mumbling something. I accosted, playfully, "You shouldn't mumble, it's unbecoming."

He sent me a cautious stare, before enunciating, uncomfortably, "I feel.. Bad."

I prompted, "About?"

"You feeling sick."

I asked, "Why would feel bad about that?"

He gritted his teeth, "Because it way my stupid idea.."

I rolled my eyes, and lay my hand on top of his own, and traced circles with my thumb on his palm, before placating, "Stop being such a worry wart. I'm fine, see? I'm good, now, you.. Smile, because I don't know how long I'm going to spend here with you, and I don't want you to be.. Like this."

He sighed, and pulled one of his hands out of my grip, and ran it through his hair, and moaned, "But.. If I cant even stop you from being sick, then what happens when something worse happens?"

I stood up, then, and drew him with me, and held his hands, softly, which was something in itself. I felt a strange connection with these two men, and I couldn't stop the blush from rising in my cheeks. "If is such a loaded word. It's big, and mean, and stupid. What if? Could I? What about? All these.. Phrases, can mean so much, from something so little. So what if I was sick, and it was because of quidpitch, so what? I'm fine now, and that's all that matters. Right?"

He had a quivering smile on his face, and I think my serious expression caught him off-guard, as he burst out laughing, and practically wept on the spot, while repeating, 'quidpitch' over and over again, breathlessly. Once he regained his composure, he corrected, "It's not 'quidpitch', you silly girl, its Quidditch."

I shoved his shoulder, lightly, and said, flippantly, "Whatever."

It was then that Binky popped back in, and once she clicked her own fingers, and the circular table we had been seated around widened, and three plates appeared in front of me. Another click seemed to pull of some kind of cloak, and food magically appeared; in one bowl there was what I thought to be some kind of chicken broth, in another, fresh, crisp looking, delicious fruits merged together, in the third, there were many pieces of toast, surrounded with smaller pots of strawberry and raspberry jam along with marmalade. Blaise said, contentedly, "Hurry, while the toast is still warm. Heating charms are terrible for spoiling food quickly."

I shook my head, happiness swelling in my chest, and I sat down, took a few wine coloured grapes from the bowl and popped them in my mouth. It was only once I had finished my first bite that Draco began eating, followed by Blaise, who simply smiled at me, while eating a few pieces of banana from the plate. I started on the soup, considering it looked absolutely divine, and the first sip had me gasping in pleasure.

I turned to Binky, who stood silent as ever, and gasped, "This. Is. _amazing!"_

She smiled, and nodded, once before popping away, to God knows wherever else, leaving me, Blaise and Draco to eat our breakfast, together, in the garden, like a regular old couple, watched by the ever critical eye of one Lucius Malfoy, from his personal business quarters, on the top floor of the manor. He turned to the person behind him, and his face set into a grim, morbid line, as he commented, "She's going to be powerful.. Do you think she is The One?"

The nameless, faceless person simply nodded once, before their genderless form began dissipating, atom by atom, until there was nothing but a fading cloud of dull smoke left behind. Narcissa chose then to knock on her husband's door, and step inside, only to notice his grim atmosphere immediately. She asked, tentatively, "Luc.. What's wrong?"

He shook his head, slightly, his blonde locks breezing around his face, and she, once again, became lost in her husbands ice-cold eyes.


	25. Chapter 25

**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I****'****d have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It****'****s an amazing series, and I recommend both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**

**This story takes place after the war **

**Evie POV**

That afternoon, Binky had popped in, politely interrupting a fascinating anecdote told by an enthused, haughty Draco, something about hippogriffs and a broken arm, to inform me of a scheduled meeting with Lucius, in an hour, at quarter past 3. I was told, much to the disappointment of the two young men I was with, that I had to go alone, as we had personal things we needed to discuss; a fact that made me rather nervous, if I were being honest. My stomach clenched nervously, and I felt my skin prickle with anxiety, and I felt two intense stares flitter across my equally confused features.

"What do you think he wants?," Draco wondered, absentmindedly, to which I had no answer. I had no clue why he'd want to talk to me, however I assumed it was to do with something magical. It had to be.

Before we knew it, three in the afternoon reared its ugly head, and I detached myself from the boys, promising to find them as soon as I was done, and Binky led me up the many, _many _floors, and by the time we reached the top, I was out of breath, and my legs were throbbing. These shoes weren't the type of things I would wear on a regular basis, and I decided, from then on, that I would dress the way I wanted; this dress was beautiful and all, but I was getting sick of having to keep nudging it down as a particularly strong gust of wind tried to expose my underwear.

It was embarrassing to say the least, especially in front of Draco and Blaise.

Binky led me down the corridor, which felt almost deader and more cold than the others, no portraits decorated the walls, not even a torch to stave away the darkness, and the only light being a glass window, all the way on the end of the long hallway. We arrived at the fourth door down, and Binky knocked, thrice, courteously, and a muffled yet strong 'Come in,' was heard on the other side. She pulled open the door, and stepped only once inside, before announcing, "Binky has brought Missus, Master."

Lucius, who was facing down at something on his desk, scribbling away at some documents, gave a resigned 'Hmph' and Binky took this as a signal for her to leave. Nervously, I stepped inside, and closed the door behind me, only to stand in the doorway, not really knowing what to do, until Lucius said, "Have a seat, Evelyn."

I did, and he finished writing whatever he had to do, and regarded me, silently, yet his gaze was intrusively intense, and I squirmed in my seat, uncomfortably. He asked, "Have you been having a good time, Evelyn?"

I nodded, not quite able to answer, and he sighed, "Good," and stood up, straight and professionally, still regarding me coolly, "I am sure you're wondering why I asked you here, suddenly," and at my timid, second nod, he explained, "Well, I am going to assume that you have accepted your position at Hogwarts, correct?"

Nodding, _again, _he stated, "Good.. Sign this for me, I need to send it to the Headmistress, so that she knows, for sure, that you're coming."

He handed me a short written letter, the scrawl being scratchy and entirely regal and practically _screamed _Malfoy swagger, and a goose feather quill, and I scanned the surprisingly short letter, quickly. It stated:

_Dear Minerva McGonagall, _

_Approximately one week ago, I alerted you to the possibility of a newly discovered witch in need of pupilage, and as my son attends Hogwarts, I have found this school to be the best place for her to apply. Below is her willingly placed signature, and I would hope that, even though she is already seventeen, you will accept her into your teachings._

_As she is a new student, I would hope that you, and your staff, would be auspicious towards her learning. She will be experiencing an intense, month-long rearing to make sure she is up to the seventh-year standard to cultivate her magical ability._

_There are a few notions in which we must address, in private. Due to my name, previous connections and notoriety, I cannot discuss them through an OWL._

_Many thanks, and with regards,_

_Lucius Abraxas Malfoy_

And beneath a dotted line that awaited my signature, and I glanced up at him, before asked, "Do I sign my given name, or my normal name?"

He shrugged, pursing his lips, fractionally, still regal in his aura, and asked, curiously, "Do you want people to know who, and what, you are?"

Shaking my head, I signed 'Evelyn Kendall'. feeling the magic intertwine and glow with each letter, and handed him back the parchment, before reclining back into the plush seat. He sat back behind his cherry wood desk, and said, absentmindedly, "Okay, we know you know next to nothing about our world, but if you are going to attend this school, and by default, represent our family, you will have to undergo severe, advanced training in magic. Are you still sure you wish to do this?"

I paused, then with sincerity in my tone, I replied, "Yes."

He smirked, before answering, "Okay.. It's exactly 4 weeks and 2 days until the Hogwarts year begins. That leaves us enough time to teach you the absolute basics, but you _have _to want it."

I interrupted, coolly, "I've got a good memory," hoping it didn't come across rudely or conceited.

He smirked, and sarcastically commented, "I'm sure you do, but this is different," and reclined in his archaic seat, "Your schedule will be as follows. Every morning, at 7am, you will report here, to me, and we shall begin you training. With me, you will do nothing but Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts _and _I will help you with you Veela traits. With Cissy, you will learn proper etiquette of a Pure-Blood family, Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures. With Draco, it's Potions and flying, and Blaise, well.. He's all for your vampiric inheritance tuition. He's there to make sure you can control and curb your more.. Violent and aggressive tendencies."

I blanched, and he laughed, quietly, before admitting, apologetically, "These next few weeks will be horrible, and I'm sorry for that, but you need it. By default, you represent the Malfoy, Zabini, and a direct descendant of the Sol _and _the Totum family lines.. There is a lot of pressure on you to be perfect, and we're here to help with that. At the end of every week, you will partake in, I think you call it a pop quiz in America, on everything you've studied those past 7 days. Each time it will get more and more difficult, and your wand will become your best friend. It's almost four now, so we'll finish up in here, then we'll have lunch with the family, only to return, and begin your training."

Grimacing, deeply, he pressed a finger against my frown lines, and smiled, "Come on now, stop being so moody. Once this month is over, you'll be at school. _Actual_ wizarding school, learning about our kind. Come on. Let's go eat, I'm hungry now."

He draped his cloak-clad arm over my shoulders, and led me downstairs, however, this time, now that I was safe in the knowledge of exactly what I will be doing, I felt lighter and.. I don't know, safer, I guess. I finally will be able to be the magical creature I was meant to be, and I was ecstatic, to say the least. These next four weeks will be Hell, but I guess it would be worth it to be able to say, wholeheartedly, that I was an appropriate witch.

Now, I guess, all I have to do is crack flying on those damned brooms, and maybe I'll be okay.


	26. Chapter 26

_**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**_

_**This story takes place after the war.**_

Lunch that afternoon was a tense one at that. Instead of eating in the ostentatiously large dining room, Cissy decided that a more intimate scenery was required, and I was swept back in the garden, beneath the canopy, however the setting itself had changed.

There was now a long smooth, oval shaped table beneath the marquee, with six chairs tucked into it, Narcissa and Lucius seated next to one another, Valencia besides Cissy, and I found myself sandwiched between two very animated young men, who persistently asked me about what Lucius and I discussed beforehand.

I was loathed to tell them, as I wasn't sure what exactly I could say on the matter, and Lucius chose that moment, thankfully, to address them, curtly.

"Draco, Blaise, please, can you not see she is uncomfortable with your hounding of her? Evelyn and I simply discussed her stay at Hogwarts, and her training leading up to such a date," and went back to sipping his tea, calmly, as though he hadn't just struck both men besides me still with an invisible lightning bolt.

Draco turned to me, and whispered, lowly, "You.. You decided to come with us?"

I nodded, slowly, not really understanding why he was so shocked at the revelation of sorts, and yelped, loudly, as he drew me into his arms, and tugged me up off of the ground, so my arms were forced to lock around his neck, and my feet hung, unceremoniously, off of the floor. Blaise simply smirked in my direction, and as he set me back on my feet, Blaise grasped my hand in his own, and held it tightly, grinning, happily, down at me, and I returned it with my own. He said, "I'm glad you're coming."

I felt my face heat up, slightly, and I turned to the now-full plates of food that I didn't recognise in the slightest. Creamy soups, with sprigs of diced herbs around the circumference, and a dark orange sauce swirled in the centre appeared in front of them.

All four of them clasped their hands together, and began mumbling some kind of prayers under their breaths, and I felt my eyes widen, exponentially. The atmosphere swirled with residual magical energy, and I could practically see the magnetism in the air. I felt it char my skin, and twirl charmingly in the air, and I inhaled, deeply, wondering what exactly was going on, and as soon as they all finished simultaneously speaking, the allure stopped.

Lucius grinned, at my lost expression, and he said, "Just one of the many things we learn as young children."

He indicated at me, "You can eat now, if you'd like," and he began digging into his food, with a refined sense of aristocracy that I could never imitate, and, all of a sudden, I felt like a bit of a slob.

I didn't know how to be all prim and proper like them; Hell, if I was really hungry, I ate food with my hands, forgetting about cutlery, but not these guys. Every single one of them ate in quick succession, never letting a drop of the soup fall anywhere but their mouths, and their expressions remained neutral and calm throughout it all. I felt someone's eyes on me, and as I glanced up, I noticed both Blaise and Draco's eyes glide across the panes of my face quickly, trying to find the source of my discomfort.

Upon closer inspection, I found that neither of them had touched their soups, but had their spoons readied in their smooth hands, as if they were waiting for me to begin. Were they? Was this some kind of mating thing?

Lucius regarded me coolly, before answering my unasked questions, "They cannot eat until you begin, as dominant's they are sworn to protect you, and therefore, you become their responsibility. They feed you first, it's a basic impulse that majority of animalistic or instinctual dark creatures suffer from. I do the same with Narcissa, it's an unspoken, written code in our modified DNA. We cannot go against it, even if we wanted to."

My eyes widened, once more, and I found myself annoyed that I kept making that same confused, lost expression. I just didn't _get_ it. I wanted to know what I was getting myself into, and I made a decision, to begin reading up on, not who, but _what _exactly I was. After a pause of silence, I nodded, and grasped the cool stainless steel cutlery in my hands, and scooped a small spoonful of soup onto it, taking care as to not get any on the dress I was wearing, as well as trying to get it all into my mouth, without spilling any anywhere else. It was a poor imitation of what they could do, naturally, but it was the best I could give, and apparently, it was alright, as Lucius, Narcissa and Valencia observed me with a quiet appraisal, and went back to their meals.

Both Draco and Blaise began eating, just as sophisticatedly as their parents were, and our lunch proceeded on fairly relaxed and calmly.

-0-

"If you want it to be real, it is," Draco said, for the eighteenth time, just as calmly as he had the first, " Step up to the left side of the broomstick, right arm extended, and just say 'up'. It's really that easy, you can do it."

I growled, under my breath of course, and ground out, "Up," in a high annoyed, distressed tone, to which he simply grinned at, conveying his perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth, and strangely sharp canines.

"Up."

"_Up.__"_

"**Up.****"**

"U- You know what? This is not working," I snarled, throwing my hands up in the air, entirely upset that its not working. He stepped towards me, his expensive cologne filling my senses, and placed his suspiciously warm hands on the upper part of my shoulders.

He stared in my eyes, and said, reassuringly, "You can do this. Now, come on," his blue eyes twinkling with mirth and _something _else, "One more time, but _feel _it. The magic is there, its in you, we can all see it. You just have to believe you can do it."

Inhaling, slightly, and receiving a proud smile from Draco, I gave it one last try. I concentrated on the intense, spicy sensations the magic coursing through my very veins. The fiery passage it left in its wake. The taste of it on my tongue, the scent of it, the texture and the incomparable _heat. _I was so alert that I could feel the tendrils of magic spiraling off of my body, and colliding with his own. They were twisting, turning, rubbing against one another, and I felt my body well up with a power that _wasn't _completely my own.

Whispering, pleadingly, to myself, of course, "For the love of God," before tensing, and stating, strongly, "Up."

And the smooth texture of the wooden broom that was previously laying dormant on the floor was now firmly planted in my hands, and I couldn't help but half-way scream in happiness. Before I knew it, I had thrown my arms around Draco's warm, inviting, sof-** No, stop. **I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his hands wound around my waist, tightly, before he whispered in my ear, "I'm proud of you."

Being this close to him, I could see all of the intricacies of his face; the sharply contoured panes of his cheekbones, and his straight edged node and bright, yet withdrawn ice-blue eyes. His strawberry blonde lashes brushed his cheeks, and his hair fell into his eyes, as though he had just woken up from a long, fulfilling nap.

At the mere thought of his lips, I felt myself lick my own, without permission, and he inhaled, sharply, before his eyes darkened considerably, and he nudged me away, softly, with a significant shudder of his body. He wheezed, "S-Sorry, I shouldn't.. The Allure could make this situation a Hell of a lot worse,"

"W-What's an Allure?"

He sighed, his body heaving with the action, and said, "It's a tool that us Veela's use with our partners."

My forehead creased, and he elaborated, without a smidgen of embarrassment of hesitance, "When we have sex, we use the Allure to double, sometimes triple the pleasure of our mates."

"So you're saying that we can.. Turn people on?"

His smirk grew then, "Not just people," he shuffled towards me, emitting the most sensual and enticing aura that I had ever encountered. My eyesight began blurring a little around the edges, and he chuckled to himself, before whispering, his lips barely a hairsbreadth away from my own, "It. Works. On. Everyone."

And then he stepped away, and the magic that seemed to be pressing down on my neck, choking the air out of my throat, was broken. His smirk was _so cocky, _and he was clearly proud of himself, but I could do nothing but frown and turn on my heel.

Shaking my head, dispelling the less than reputable thoughts that crossed my mind, I said, shakily, "Yeah.. S-Sounds g-great," and, wobbly, made my way back towards the broom to continue the fucking lesson.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**_

_**This story takes place after the war.**_

I glanced up at Lucius from the piles and piles of Charms homework that he had set me at the beginning of the week, and sighed, "Does this get any easier?"

"No, now carry on," he smiled, "Stop distracting yourself."

I groaned, "But this book is so.. _Big!_"

The textbook in which I was referring to was _The Standard Book of Spells, _written by Miranda Goshawk. Apparently this was one of the obligatory manuals we, as students of Hogwarts, were required to read, memorise, comprehend and then, perform the spells we learned. As of the first week of my gruelling training, I had been ordered to read the first to versions of this book, grades one and two, just so, and I quote, I 'understood the basics'. In the first grade version of this book, I learnt the most basic, first-year spells that, according to Lucius, could be done whilst incapacitated.

He was wrong.

They took time, effort, energy, magic and Jesus, was it hard, but I did it, and by the end of the first three days, I was able to complete, successfully, 9 easy, every day spells, that set my heart alight. I was so proud of myself, however I barely had time to celebrate before I was thrown headfirst into the second grade volume of the book. Again, it took me an embarrassing amount of time, but I did it, and I was able to properly disarm my opponent, as well as unlock bolted doors and make spontaneous fires.. This one took me a little longer to perfect, but I did it. Thankfully.

By the second week, I was ready and waiting for whatever challenges Lucius could throw at me, and I swept through each volume with an acute precision that was not my own. Before long, I was able to react against the more basic of attacking spells by using my wand without a moment's hesitation, and, oh God, I could see how proud he was of me, but he couldn't show it. He didn't want me to become overconfident, then make mistakes, potentially hurting myself, or other's around me. The third volume of the book was a lot more intricate, and a little more difficult that the first two, but I triumphed, with a smile, and barely a lick of sweat along my brow. Every night, however, I would crawl into bed, and be completely dead to the world, or that was until 7am rolled around, and I was sent trucking through the motions once again.

Because I was to be placed into Draco's year, simply for convenience and accessibility, apparently, I was told I would have to read up to the eighth volume of the Charms book, and, not for the first time, I was thankful for my brilliant memory. I soaked up the spells, like a sponge, memorising and repeating them verbatim, without even a twitch. The summoning charm, _Accio, _quickly became my favourite, and I used it on regular occasion throughout Malfoy Manor, irritating the life out of my mate's and their house-elves, of whom I had grown quite fond of.

The non-verbal spell-casting involved in grade 6 through 8 was the trickiest for me to get my head around, and it took me the longest - nearly a fucking week to learn one unspoken spell, however once I got the hang of it, and knew how it felt _inside _then I could do it with anything he handed me - to the shock of Lucius, and his.. My family.

Currently, I was on the eighth, and thankfully final, textbook, and I was simply referring through the contents, wondering if I had missed any spells, and upon realising that I hadn't, I continued with the never-ending homework that he continued to pile in front of me. The absolute sadist.

_-0-_

Narcissa's lessons weren't at all any easier.

They consisted of bowing, curtseying, and smiling, _constantly, _to attract flocks of women, who, apparently, talked nothing but everyone else's business. Sitting in the correct way, breathing shallowly, but not to quickly, as to draw voyeuristic attentions to my chest. And still stay smiling. The cups had to face the correct way, so the wind direction could swirl the steam from the warm cups of tea _away _so they didn't condense on the front of my many, many, _many, _dresses, of which I probably wont wear. Speaking of clothes, those Goddamn corsets could rearrange the order of someone's organs, and they wouldn't even know it, considering they were so fucking tight.

Narcissa was all about image - on the surface, at least.

She was a dainty blonde, with a killer smile and an eye for detail, and during her lessons, she wasn't afraid to point out my faults.

"_You're slouching too much, deary, your clothes will crease," _she would say, in that tone that left no room for argument, but was soft enough to still sound kind and considerate, _"Sip, not slurp. It's unladylike."_

To remove's one's gloves when making a formal call was enough for a sharp snap on the wrist, to use her terms, at least. Never dawdle, or stare, aimlessly around a room. Never divert your attentions from your guest, lest of all be occupied with something else entirely. Never look at your watch, or a timepiece while speaking to another. If you are the hostess of a party, or gathering, of a group with less than 6 people, you are able to socialise freely with your guests, however if it is large gathering of guests, you **must**stay at the door and usher them in, with a perfectly placed smile. Never walk around a room, waiting or otherwise, unless you've been asked. Never turn your chair on your guests, or play with ornaments around a room that is not your own, especially with company. Never, and she was especially concerned about this, _never _concern yourself with the occurrences in another's home. If you notice something that is not to your pleasure, turn away until it no longer bothers you. That is the way of the pure-blood.

Her lesson's never lasted as long as Lucius', or even Draco's, however they were just as psychologically trying, and I couldn't say that I enjoyed them, however simply being in her vicinity was enough to put a smile on my face, and apparently that was enough for me.

_-0-_

The worst, however, was Blaise's classes, simply because I had never felt so out of my element that when I was around him.

He moved with the natural rhythm of a predator, and that set me on edge, every single time we were in the same room as one another, let alone when I was forced to be seated, for an hour, every morning and night, having his vampiric aura practically _rub _against my own. He watched me, meticulously, either out of his peripherals, or just plain staring across a room, but it was the looks that unnerved me. It was the pure, unadulterated passion in his eyes. If he could, I swear it, he would have set me alight with a simple glance, and I felt my groin heat up within minutes of being around him. They flared alive every time I even so much as glanced his way, and they made _me _react in ways that I didn't understand.

It was a strange sensation, and sometimes I wondered whether or not he had something like an Allure that just drew people towards him, like a bee to a honey pot.

Back home, I was never much for 'boyfriends' or whatnot. Honestly, I thought, wholeheartedly, that I was a lesbian. It wasn't something that ever bothered me, but it never occurred to me that the reason why I wasn't attracted to other boys my age was because I had already had predetermined mates of my own, who could fulfil me in every facet.

His classes never failed to leave me breathless, yet at the same time, so hungry for more. He taught me about my family tree, and subsequently just how far back the vampire gene goes.

Apparently it was the great, great, great, great, great, great, great, _great _grandmother, Greta, who was first bitten by a rogue vampire in the early 1700s that first brought the vampiric gene into our family's bloodline. Her parent's ostracised her, of course, due to her 'damaged' genes, and she went on to marry a beautiful man with the last name Totum. Her son was the first 'born' vampire in our lineage, and so forth was cultivated the feared Totum line.

There were a few downsides, though, that I learned on the second day of our private classes.

"We don't live forever," he said, with a small crook in his lip, "We have an extended lifespan, compared to that of a regular human, by nearly triple, depending on your health habits as a person," then after giving a small glance my way, he added, "Garlic doesn't bother us much, strong sunlight might give us a little bit of a headache now and then, but that's just because we have sensitive eyes. Wooden stakes couldn't pierce out skin, and crucifixes are nothing but accessories. If we don't feed regularly, we waste away. Our mates," he said, exhaling, softly, "They are paramount to everything else in our lives, and are the most important people to us as dark creatures."

I could hear the hesitation in his tone to talk about it, especially considering I could guess that it would get a little awkward, or heated, or even both, knowing my luck. He wanted to tell me, but he didn't want to make me uncomfortable. His dark hair fell into his eyes, slightly, and his eyes.. They had to be my favourite part of him, if I were being honest. They were so dark, yet expressive and sultry, all at once. I could see so many things flittering through his indigo orbs, yet I couldn't even think of how to express what I was seeing.

Probably against my better judgement, I asked, tentatively, "I'm sorry, this might get uncomfortable, and.. And I-I understand if y-you don't want to answer, b-but I j-just get confused sometimes. We're m-mates, right?"

He simply nodded, stiffly, and I continued, "And Draco, too?"

He acquiesced once more with a dip of his head, his eyes completely shielded from me now, and I finished, pathetically, "So what does that mean exactly?"

He took a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times, setting my stomach on edge, once more. He sighed, once more, before answering, factually, "In its simplest form, it means that we are, and always will be, connected. Your magic directly reflect my magic, and in turn Draco's. There is no other vampire, or Veela out there who could be so perfect for us, respectively, as you are."

My mouth was dry, and I couldn't find the words to fully convey the depth of the emotion I was feeling, so I simply settled on, yep, you guessed it, crying. Like a little bitch. I knew I was coming on my period soon, but Jesus, could I have, you know, _not _cried, in front of, probably, the sexiest Italian in the entirety of the world? I swear, I will forever remember that as the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.

But, surprisingly enough, he didn't comment on the redness of my face, or the wetness dripping down my nose and chin, yet simply gathered me in his arms, and held me close, which, of course, brought on a whole new set of tears, for absolutely no reason, whatsoever. Yep, easily the most embarrassing 10 minutes of my life.

He clasped his hands together, and rubbed them, generating some heat in a room that already sizzled with warmth, "So, you want to get back to work, la mia anima?"

With a wink, I answered, intuitively, without really realising it, "Certo!"

His eyes turned towards me, his indigo eyes wide and filled with molten shock, and he stammered, "You speak Italian?"

Nodding, blankly, I replied, "Since I was a kid… Why?" not quite understanding why he was so shocked at my statement. I wondered, idly, if I had done something wrong in what I had said, but not really seeing how I really could have. He shook his head, after a moment of being purely void of all emotion, and replied, "Nothing.. Let's get back to work, alright?"

And we did.

**_It's late, I know. I'm so sorry. I wasn't able to access wifi, so I'm sorry, my lovelies!_**


	28. Chapter 28

_**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**_

_**This story takes place after the war.**_

**Evie POV**

The name 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' was a lot more foreboding than I had thought, especially considering the class itself was pretty fucking simple, once you got your head around it in the beginning.

The books were far more interesting that they had been for Charms, catching my attentions quicker, and with more vigour, also. I liked this lesson because it was so different from everything else I had been taught. It wasn't necessarily about attacking the enemy, but understanding him, and then being able to overpower him with the knowledge you had acquired. I was glad for the substantial amount of books, both on the curriculum and otherwise, that was stored in the Malfoy library, as I spent majority of my spare time in there, face first in some kind of book, in front of the spelled fireplace.

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _was an amalgamation of extra spells that I could learn, as well as background information about my kind, as well as a few others that have been established in the wizarding world. Werewolves, animagus', vampires, ogres, you name it, they were in it, and it was _fascinating. _Especially to what they referred to as a muggleborn, like took me even less time to click with this subject, and it almost pained me when I was told I _had _to stop, otherwise I wouldn't be able to get enough sleep.

Damn it.

_-0-_

Potions… The only word to describe my **love **for this topic was paramount to everything else I had even attempted. And having Draco as a teacher wasn't all that bad.

He was calm, collected and just patient with me, even when I singed his eyebrows _clean _off of his face. He grumbled a little, but eventually we hugged it out, and everything was fine once again. Except he had taken to wearing specially modified goggles around me and my special brass pewter cauldron. I liked this specific one because it was mine, and I knew this because my name was engrave on the rim, so nobody could take it away from me. Apparently it was a present from Lucius, who had hoped I would take more of an abject hand in the lesson if I had a more personal hand in it. And it worked. Because I loved it. Sue me.

There were a few pointers I had to be clear on even before I was let inside of their specially modified spare room turned medieval lab, and those were as follows:

Follow the instructions to the letter.

Listen to Draco at all times.

Clean equipment made for better potions.

Connect with your wand prior to any brewing.

_**FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!**_

So I did, and the result was spectacular.

The first two books I was given to read over were, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, _written by Herbologist and ex-Head Mistress of Hogwarts Phyllida Spore; the irony of her surname made me laugh to myself, and receive a cool glare from Draco in return. What? It's funny. Basically, the content of the book was exactly what it said on the tin. The intricate designs of different magical and some human herbs used in potions; what they reacted well with, and what they were never to be combined with, under any circumstances. The dangers of the potions, as well as the good they can do in the world if they're brewed correctly.

The second book was named, _Magical Drafts and Potions, _written by Arsenius Jigger, and is one of the required textbooks for first-year students. It seemed to physically pain Draco to even so much as touch the book, let alone actually teach it, but he tunnelled through it, and helped me as best as he could, keeping everything professional, even though, sometimes, I would catch him staring at me, in a way that I could only describe as hungry.

Apparently, Narcissa thought I was something of a connoisseur when it came to potions, even though I had never even heard of some of the ingredients beforehand. I was glad I was doing something right, although I got a little overexcited sometimes, and Draco usually was the one to pay for it. Oops. He taught me the absolute necessities, like antidotes and solutions to common, everyday problems, like burns or colds, and I was thankful, because it would save me a Hell of a lot of time, and money that would have been wasted on shit pharmaceutical drugs.

We moved onto the advanced potion-making within two weeks of beginning my classes, and to say Draco was thrilled was an understatement. He hated the 'childish drivel' that he had to teach me, and was happy I was onto something 'worth' my time. Glad I could be of service, Draco.

One book I found, though, in the library that truly did catch, and keep, my interests was named, Moste Potente Potions, written by Phineas Bourne. It was the gruesome, detailed illustrations that first caught my attentions, however the controversy and the dangerousness of the potions inside of the book was what actually kept me reading well into the dark of the night. The level of intricacy that went into these potions was astounding, and I was surprised Draco hadn't thought to mention them, however when I brought it up to him, I could tell, simply from the look of complete disgust on his face, that he had no intention of delving into the recess of that world with me.

Well, alright then, Moody Margaret.

_-0-_

Draco not only taught me Potions, but also about my Veelae instincts, and how to put a severe dampen on them, because it could, and probably would, get me in the deepest shit ever, especially if I was outnumbered, or if my mates weren't around if something terrible happened.

He trailed his thumb down the length of my spine, liquid _sex _dripping from his touch and soaking through my clothes and practically fusing with my skin, creating a resonating layer of _pleasure _that ran voltage through my body, consistently, and he sighed, deeply, into my ear, "You're not working hard enough for it, love," a deep growl in his tone. I shook my head, unable to think clearly, let alone actually _do _anything about it.

It was maddening!

"What happens if I'm not around to protect you, my love," he pressed himself tighter to the back of my body, pressing myself further into the crisp black sheets of Blaise's bed, being submersed in the scent of both of my mates driving me crazy. We had all of our clothes on; as a matter of fact, we were supposed to be going to sleep, honestly, so I was dressed, obviously appropriately, in my favourite pyjamas - my lion all-in-one that I was given last Christmas by Dylan, and I felt him tug the hood that was covering my bun of dark, damp, thick hair.

"Nu-uh, not quite, love," he said, cupping my ass, brazenly, and I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head, completely out of my control. This was the eighth night in a row that the three of us decided to sleep beside one another - I found sleep came easier to me in their presences, and he took full advantage of that fact. It wasn't like I didn't like it; I knew that if I said no, he would back off.

He had on a pair of silk dark blue pyjama pants on, and nothing to cover his pale, hairless chest from my wandering eye, and I felt him chuckle, his torso moving with laughter, and I had the greatest urge to, not only touch, but lick his skin. He had just come out of the shower, so it was a little damp, his hair falling into his eyes, creating a wall between ultramarine and ram-rod steel. He was in complete control of himself, and it was driving me crazy. I huffed, noisily, and he nipped at my bottom lip, unexpectedly, drawing my attentions from his impressive, toned, lean body, to the throbbing of my mouth, and he smirked, "Pay attention, my little lion."

Rolling my eyes, I rolled onto my back, from my side, and he turned with me, pressing himself completely to me, so that every expanse of our bodies were touching in some way.

"Try it again.. You know its in there, you've just got to find it and make peace with it. Your inner-Veela will never hurt you - its protection, and made of nothing but love and adoration. If you don't.. Sweet Salazar, I don't want to know what I'll do if something ever happens to you," he drew his chalky hand over my tanned cheek, and I stared into his suddenly expressive molten silver eyes. How did eyes get so goddamn pretty? I think I might just fall headfirst into them.

"Come on. I'm coming at you again, love," then with a deadly smirk, that I had no doubt would intimidate others, "And this time, it's going to drive you nuts.. If you don't put your wall up, of course."

He pressed his hand on the side of my neck, and I couldn't help it.

I screamed in nothing but pleasure, my eyes rolling into the back of my skull, feeling my canines protrude, painfully, for the first time, drawing blood from my gum-line, and he shouted, over my yells, "Come on! You can do this!"

His tone was strained, and I knew that this was affecting him just as much as it was getting to me, and the fact that he wasn't grinding himself silly, into the sheets below him, like me, as if I was some cat in goddamn heat, and as I looked at him, recognition flashed in his eyes, his own switching from the familiar, cool grey, to a sharp, supernatural ochre, and his canines jutted from his own mouth, and pressed a sharp, emotive kiss to my own bruised, bleeding lips.

He hooked my legs around his waist, and I ground myself into him, like an animal, and he did the same, losing himself in my embrace, shovelling his face into my shoulder, pressing sloppily, wet open-mouthed kisses all over my neck, and I couldn't help but tug at his wet strands, arching my back into his chest.

_Claim Claim Claim Claim Claim_

Repeating his name over and over again, like some kind of a mantra, I felt my sharp canines nuzzle closer and closer to his jugular, but before I could sink my teeth into his pale, beautiful stretch of skin, I heard a sharp cough from the bathroom doorway, and Blaise chuckled, "You guys getting close without me?"

I didn't even have it in me to reply, my canines snapping away with a sharp click, and I felt Draco push away from me, reclining onto his knees, his abdominal muscles rippling in a way that made me want to kiss him _all over _and replied, cheekily, "You were taking too long, love."

_-0-_

"There are four aspects of Transfiguration that you will have to learn; an intense week on each. Transformation, Untransformation, Vanishment and Conjuration - the latter being the most difficult to do," Cissy said, with a small smile, "It's going to be difficult, especially considering it takes a lot of concentration and magical energy."

Nodding, I felt my lips form a firm line, and she said, "Physical transformations come later. Right now, I don't believe its possible for you to get to that level in the short amount of time that we have."

That made me frown, a little, but I knew that what she was saying was right. As long as I was doing my best, there was nothing else I could do.

"We all it Switching," she stated with a shrug, and her nose and mouth area turned from the fair-featured original, to the bright yellow beak of a duck, and back again, without even so much as a blink in between. My expression was that of pure shock, and she simply winked in response.

"Let's get to it, then," I stated, with determination shining vibrantly in my eyes.

_-0-_

By the end of my month stint here, I was haggard, exhausted and only being held together by shots of caffeine taken periodically throughout the day. As soon as the 4th of September rolled around, I knew that by the end of the day, I would be told whether or not I was fit enough to attend Hogwarts at the level in which I wholeheartedly believe I deserve. I wanted to stand _with _my mates, not behind or below them. That wasn't me, and never would be.

Lucius told me that as soon as I woke up that morning, I would be going through heart wrenchingly difficult examinations that would take place at any point throughout the day, and therefore I should be on my toes. They could be oral, written, physical or purely mental, but I wouldn't know until it was happening.

Well, what would life be without a smidgen of spontaneity every now and again?


	29. Chapter 29

_**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**_

_**This story takes place after the war.**_

"Protego!," I yelled, as Lucius sent me a particularly nasty attack spell,, shielding me from the strike. I shouted, "Expulso," intent on hitting my target, one of the three large white knight chess pieces behind him.

He said that if I made two out of the three crumble, then I would have passed my first offensive trial, and I could move onto the next exam. We had been going at this for nearly an hour, and all I had been able to do was nick the horse's muzzle, a little, and watch as it crumbled to the floor. I was beginning to lose my patience, however I knew that I needed to keep my cool, because Lucius _would _hit me, and it _would _hurt.

Growling under my breath, and feeling the sweat bead across my forehead, I paused, for a moment, before rolling out of the way of Lucius' precise, would-be painful spell. I had to be smart about this, and to do that, I needed to _outsmart_ Lucius. Almost like a Godsend, I felt the knowledge swell inside of my mind, and in my mind's eye, I saw myself carry out this ploy, before I actually did it, and it worked.

Steeling myself against the thought of pain, I charged straight at Lucius, who, honestly, looked a little disappointed. Well he sure as Hell wont be when I'm through with him. He sent a well-timed, yet premeditated _Stupefy, _and I found myself diving directly beneath the line of fire, and now, I was about four feet away from him. It was time.

Before he could recollect himself, I had rolled out of the way, onto my hands and tip-toes, before shuttling a sharp, quick _Incarcerous _and watched as ropes wound themselves around his body, tightening to my mental satisfaction, rendering him incapacitated and unable to do anything. Just to make sure, I reached down and removed his wand from his hand, and lay it on the dewy ground a few inches to the left of him. Turning to the side, never facing completely away from my momentary enemy, I pointed my wand at the first knight piece, and shouted, strongly, _"Bombarda Maxima," _and watched as it crumbled to the floor, like an unstable piece of cliff-face. Towards the other, I smirked, and whispered, just as strongly, yet with a little more flare, _"Confringo!"_

The same thing that happened to the first, occurred with the second, and the third, understanding its fate, respectfully bowed, before simply cracking and breaking apart. Such is the game of Wizard's Chess - Draco had been teaching me, unsuccessfully, how to play.

He wasn't very good at it.

Swivelling back to Lucius, I pointed my wand at him, and said, _"Finite," _and watched as my ropes faded into nothing, and Lucius brushed himself off as he stood, pride shining in his eyes.

"I think I would have preferred not to have been bound, but.. The facts remain the same. You did it. You pass Charms," and scuffed my hair a little, before stating, "Onto Potions, Evie."

_-0-_

"You've got two hours," Draco said, waving his wand through the air, and red digits stating 02:00:00, and said, "Make me a Sleeping Draught."

It began counting down, and my body started to move of its out accord. I pulled out a clean silver knife, as well as a marble mortar. Collecting the appropriate ingredients; four Valerian and Lavender sprigs, Standard Ingredient and Flobberworm Mucus - yeah, it smelled just as gross as it sounded.

Firstly I cut up the four lavender sprigs, then added it to the mortar, along with two measures of the Standard Ingredient - which was just a mixture of green, sweet-scented herbs, and mashed it into a smooth, creamy paste using the pestle. The two blobs of the dreaded Flobberworm Mucus was added to my special cauldron, and I was hit with the distinct urge to heave at the stench that emitted from it. As quickly as I was able, I diced up two more measures of the Standard Ingredient, and added it, also.

All the while, the cauldron was being heated with a gentle intensity, and was left for half a minute. Carefully, I added three more measures of the crushed mixture from the mortar to the cauldron and I waved my wand, watching as it changed from a lumpy green to a soft lilac viscous liquid. I left the solution to brew for seventy minutes, whilst I watched as the glaringly bright clock counted down, trying to ignore the stares of everyone watching me as I worked. It was off-putting. As soon as the 70 minute mark hit, I added two more chopped measures of the Standard Ingredient to the cauldron, and switched up the heat onto its highest temperature for exactly sixty seconds.

It had turned from the lilac-coloured liquid to a chilling blue, that reminded me far too much like Draco's eyes. I threw in four diced Valerian Springs, feeling the aromatic gas being emitted from the fluid, and stirred, clockwise, exactly seven times, before waving my wand, once, over the surface of the potion to complete it.

Glancing at the timer, I found that I had little over three minutes left, so, quickly, I transferred some of the potion into vials, corked them, and placed them in front of the cauldron, before washing off the apparatus and equipment I used.

I felt Draco's invasive aura shadow my own, and I turned around to see him smiling, proudly, at me, my breath catching in my throat, and he said, "You've got it. Onto flying now. Good luck, Evie," and kissed my forehead, then ruffled my hair in a way that made my heart soar in happiness.

_-0-_

"Complete this course, in under 5 minutes, and you can move onto Care of Magical Creatures," Blaise said, with his usual demure swagger, as he was dressed in the gear of a typical Quidditch referee. The weather wasn't as haggard as it could have been, considering it was early September, however I presumed that was down to some kind of magi cal influence of their home grounds. Hesitantly, I glanced up at the course they had set up for me to do, and blanched, momentarily, simply over the sheer magnitude of the obstacles.

There were three hoops, each higher, yet smaller in circumference that its predecessor, and I was expected to ride through them all, while avoiding any obstacles they had placed in. The hoops were held up by thick, steel poles - the shortest standing at a strong 60 feet in the air, the next 90, and the last 120. Quickly, I pulled my wind-resistant goggles over my fearful eyes, and stepped to the side of my broom.

"Up," I commanded, and it followed its orders, with ease.

Mounting the Nimbus 2013 had become easier over the last few weeks, and after receiving a pretty reassuring grin from my vampire mate, I kicked off the ground, my mind completely focused on the challenge ahead. Immediately, I heard the familiar sound of a quaffle being thrust in my direction, and I dodged it, effortlessly. Another was shot, faster this time, along with a sudden change in wind direction, however I stayed on my route. Tunnelling through the first hoop, I heard a jovial fanfare that I didn't have time to enjoy.

Instead of watching the timepiece above Blaise, I focused on my own heartbeat, and noticed just how quick and intense it had gotten. I was enjoying myself.

My glove-clad palms were clammy, my forehead was damp, from the spitting rain that was now falling - another distraction, apparently - and my goggles had long steamed up, partially blocking my vision.

I wouldn't let this beat me.

Rocketing through the second hoop, hearing the fanfare once more, I found that the air had begun to get thinner, or at least I thought it did, however I shook it off, in favour of shooting through the air, cutting past any blunt objects that were thrown my way.

I couldn't let this beat me.

The final, and smallest, hoop was in my sights, if only I could push myself a little faster, I could get it. I was so close that I could practically taste the sweet victory, however I had been _so _focused, that I hadn't factored in the possibility of a Tracker-Quaffle - one that followed its target until it hit it. I didn't know why they'd let this in the game, but I couldn't worry about that now. The back of my broom was destroyed, throwing me completely off-kilter, however I wasn't going to let that be the end of me.

I wasn't going to let this beat me.

Thrusting myself, and my broken broom, through the hoop, I yelled in triumph, which soon turned to abject fear as I hurtled through the air, and towards my doom.

Grasping the curved tip of the Nimbus 2013, and using all of my might and strength, I just about pulled myself upwards, so when I did collide with the ground, it wouldn't be face-first, but my legs would be completely destroyed instead. My heart trebled in trepidation, however as I closed my eyes, mere metres from the ground, I felt warmth encase my being, and I sighed, besides myself with anxiety.

Is this what heaven feels like? If I were in heaven, that means I'm dead, right? I hit to floor, and my light snuffed out? Oh my God, I was killed by a household object! How am I ever going to live this down? Well.. I guess I wont, will I?

A tender chuckle brought me out of my musings, and, tentatively, I blinked my eyes, upwards, and found myself staring into the indigo eyes of my ever-so perfect mate.

"You need to watch your back," he said, seriously, "You'll get hurt one of these days."

He had used his own broom to guide my now-lifeless one towards the ground, and he set me on my feet, holding onto my arms, just in case I, you know, passed out, or something. Smirking to himself, he asked, breathlessly, "Do you like scaring me out of my skin?"

I shook my head, apologetically, and stammered, equally as winded, "I-I don't mean to.. I'm sorry."

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the ends, and sighed, "You passed, by the way."

My eyes widened, and I stammered, "R-Really?"

"Yeah, you finished in 3 minutes 49 seconds," he said, grinning, proudly, "You're onto Care of Magical Creatures now," he kissed just beside the corner of my lips, "Good luck, Evelyn."


	30. Chapter 30

_**Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.**_

_**This story takes place after the war.**_

Narcissa stood at the head of the room, a notebook and a quill in her hands, a pair of glasses pressed into her neatly tied bun, and a sharp gleam in her eyes. The room we were in was another one of their many spare rooms, and had been converted into some kind of classroom, with a board at the front, and a chalk-drawn picture of what I had come to understand to be phoenix.

"First of all, you are to label this creature. Its name and the properties of each part of its body."

It was a swan-sized, ruby feathered, golden tailed bird only found in exotic countries such as Egypt, India and China. It had golden talons, with crimson and gold plumage, coupled with sharp, black eyes. The scarlet feathers gave off a faint glow in the dark, whereas the golden feathers are warm to the touch - to ward off predators.

They are known for nestling on mountain ranges, eating from the foliage and forestry surrounding them. They are well-known herbivores, and therefore aren't necessarily dangerous or known for their especially violent nature, however as it is uncommon for people to be able to domesticate them. They are of the Ministry's highest classification due to this fact.

After doing as I was told, within a few minutes, I had completely filled the designated spots full of information on these beautiful, majestic beasts. Their tears had healing properties, that could mend even the most fatal of injuries. They have the ability to regenerate themselves, periodically, throughout their lifetimes, meaning that, really, they never do 'die'. They are immune to most toxins, poisons and attacking spells that would usually kill other creatures similar to it.

Once I was done, I reclined backwards, crossing my arms over my chest, and placed the chalk on the table, before retiring to the only stool in the room.

"I will ask you a series of questions, and you are to answer them to the best of your ability," she said, regally, "It is an oral assessment, and you will be graded on your skills of verbal understanding."

Nodding, understandingly, I felt the temperature in the room plummet, and I realised the test had already begun. My palms were clasped together, to stop myself from fidgeting under her intense inspection, and she raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me, before settling her glasses on her sharp nose, and asked, "What are salamanders used for?"

Without skipping a beat, I replied, "Their blood has strong regenerative properties, so it can be used in healing potions and balms."

She nodded, not giving anything away, and scribbled something down, calmly, and continued, "The Ministry classification of these creatures is what?"

"Triple X."

Mercilessly, she asked, "And this means?"

Chewing my bottom lip, I answered, "The creature is aggressive, and can cause a lot of damage to property if not handled correctly."

She moved on, "What's a Kneazle?"

"It's a type of cat, it has a lions tail," I recalled, without breaking a sweat.

"Why are they interbred with another species?"

I recollected, calmly, "They are naturally violent, and therefore, similar to that of the salamander, they have a classification of triple X. A Kneazle on its own could cause irreparable damage to a person's estate and others around them. They are interbred to quell their more violent urges and make them more domesticated."

She enquired, "What are Nifflers used for?"

"Treasure-hunting."

She asked, "Where are they located, usually?"

Pausing, momentarily, I answered, somewhat unsurely, "In lairs, twenty feet below ground?"

As professionally as she could, she grinned, "Last question, and you're through," she paused, before asking, "Describe a Hippogriff's appearance, and why they are designed in such a way."

Taking a second to evaluate the question, I answered, slowly, yet confidently, "Similar to that of a Griffin, a Hippogriff had an eagle's head, and used its sharp beak for hunting smaller animals, like ferrets and birds. It had the hide and hind legs of a horse, for speed, strength and power, to travel over long distances without damage to its feet. It had wings, for obvious reasons, like flying, as well as protecting their young to give them warmth while they hatch."

"It's front legs are that of an eagle, with sharp talons for claws for catching food, mid-air. Its eyes are beady, and orange, for tracking creatures in the dark and intimidating other creatures. Its ears are flat against its head, to reduce surface area, and keep heat inside of its body for longer periods of time. Its pelt and feathers are both the same shade throughout, usually gray, for stealth and camouflage."

She finished scrawling down whatever she needed to, and stated, after a tense moment of waiting, "Well done, you've passed."

Exhaling, deeply, I breathed, "Sweet Jesus, thank God," to which she simply grinned, and ushered me away, before continuing, "You've got Herbology to start now."

My groan of denial was her only response.

-0-

After just barely passing Herbology by the skin of my teeth, after a poorly-timed mishap of using frog dung instead of lizard dung as fertiliser for what would have been a relatively simple Aconite plant turned out to be a Lhotse root, which causes hallucinations and hysteria, usually resulting in suicide, so yeah.. Not exactly the best of plants to create, however upon realising my mistake, the scent of the dung reacting with the mountain ash wasn't what I was expecting, conveying my mishap, I corrected it, quickly, just about making my deadline, and I was sent on to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

_That was where all Hell broke loose._

"This is a duel, between yourself, and I," Valencia said, her perfectly curled hair let loose down the length of her curved back, a tight, knee-length skirt clothed her tanned, long legs, and a rouge smile on her face.

The audience - Blaise, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa, along with a few of the house-elves who had taken to overseeing my trials, were seated on the far right side, out of the confrontation zone. My 10" cherry wood wand felt heavy in my slick hands, as she regarded me, coolly, not a hair out of place. Lucius stated, firmly, "Begin," and bedlam ensued. She initiated the duel, by sending me a sharp, quick-witted _Stupefy_, of which I barely blocked. It seemed throughout this battle, it was like I was being mocked by CiCi, who was clearly far more advanced in the dark arts, which made me wonder what exactly her background in this field was. She seemed calm and collected on the surface, but during the chaos, there was a vivacious streak in her eyes, clearly showing how much she was enjoying herself. She was having fun, and that made me happy. Well, it would have, had she not been sending jinxes thundering my way.

Every single spell I sent her way, she would simply dodge or block, and it was infuriating, however the worst, or best, moment in this entire debacle, depending on your opinion, was when she sent me an _Immobulus, _and I hadn't had enough time to verbally cast the spell, and simply slashed my wand through the air, effectively blocking the attack, as well as firing off a _Expelliarmus, _and saw her wand fly through the air, clattering against the cobbled stone tiles beneath the thin, rectangular stage we had been duelling on.

A house-elf, Tillie, alerted us, "Winner.. Evelyn," and, along with her colleagues, she popped away.

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I grinned at CiCi, who curtsied, respectfully, and went to collect her own wand, but not before congratulating, "You win, fair and square. Molto ben fatto!"

Without realising it, I bowed back, equally as respectful, and said, "Grazie," and hopped off the platform, only to be gathered in a large, warm hug by my mates.

"You did brilliantly today, Evie," Blaise said, admiringly, and I flushed at the statement. Draco kissed my temple, and whispered, quietly, "We're so proud of you."

I didn't know whether it was all of the adrenaline that was coursing through my veins at that moment, but something inside of me keened at the appraisals of these two men, and I mewled, slightly, before kissing both of their smooth, cool cheeks, in return. They stared at me, blankly, for a second, before giving me two heart-breaking, identically wide smiles of their own.

"You are experienced enough to join Hogwarts, and we know you will do us, as a family, proud, Evelyn," Lucius drawled, from the seating area, where he was standing, leaning on his shiny, black cane, where his wand was hidden inside. Smart, stylish and pretty fucking James Bond of him, if I were being honest.

"Thanks," I sighed, "I cant wait to start now."

_Chapter 30, and she's finally ready to go! Review, review, review guys!_


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